Lose Yourself
by mary worth
Summary: Amidst so many changes and heartbreaks, were truths kept covered? Why didn't Dave want to come to New Hampshire, and why is it affecting so many so deeply?
1. 1

Author's Note:        Enjoy but beware; this shall be a long story.  And I am open to any comments and suggestions (criticism is good too.  That's what makes one a good writer.  *evil laugh*  Flames will be used to roast marshmallows), as long as they're not like, "Oh, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeasssssse get Dave and Lisa together NOW before I bite your head off and stick it up your ass."  Have an open mind, for Time will tell with this story, my children.  Time will tell…

My contact is BitchCakes@dangerous-minds.com, so drop me a line.  Also, check out my webpage at http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986/index.htm.  Come on, you know you wanna!

Lose Yourself

Chapter 1

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

            Why is it so hard to be happy?  Family and friends used to be the basis of happiness, but nowadays, any _supposed_ happiness could be bought like a material possession.  Reluctantly, Lisa learned that _that_ was what she had done.  What was supposed to be an assured advance was laid out in a little place called New Hampshire.  On a whim, she had packed up and left what had been her home for who-knows how long.  True, she had followed Jimmy for a reason: he was family to her, as was everyone at the WNYX News Station.  Guiltily, she admitted to herself that the expansion in her own profits, as well as her own newspaper, had been the nail in the coffin.

            The more she thought about it, the more Lisa dwelled on the "family ties" she had with everyone.  Jimmy was like a second father, though the title of "deranged uncle" seemed more fitting.  Beth was a sister, and since Catharine left the group, they had become closer.  Joe was just beginning on the route of eccentricity, where Max was already waiting at the end of it.  In her drear life, they had become the comedic relief.  Lisa hated to be biased, but the new coworkers didn't seem to measure up, though they were over-qualified for the positions they were given.  

Last, but not least, Johnny had followed her to the new state; had supported her in her new decisions.  Despite his… _qualities_, he had been an adequate husband.  And for that, Lisa felt guilt-ridden, because there was something she was too proud to admit… That what she had gained in New Hampshire didn't even begin to make up for the family she had left behind…

… All one member of it.

* ~ *

Another day at the grind, and Lisa was less than thrilled.  Leaning against the side of the mere two-story building, she checked her watch, hoping to delay as long as possible before having to enter.  It had been just about two months since she and the rest of the WNYX group, save two, had settled in New Hampshire, and it was like a dream… only Lisa didn't know whether it was a nightmare or not.  Craning her neck so to see the sun rising in the distance, she came to a realization she had hoped not to.  Being the News Director wasn't all what it was cracked up to be.

            Once again checking her watch, seeing it was just barely seven, she let out a sigh and headed inside.

* ~ *

            "Good morning everyone."  Lisa's greeting seemed a bit forced, Beth noticed, but it was quickly forgotten.  Every morning was like this, for everyone.  The cheerful sarcasm, though contradictory, was missed, and the new crew wasn't pulling together.  Joe, Max and herself, she confessed, had formed a boundary between themselves and the extended staff Jimmy James had had waiting for their arrival in New Hampshire.  As he put it, they were meant to "increase the socialism productivity."  Beth laughed to herself.  She had a feeling Jimmy didn't exactly understand his own words, but he had gotten his point across.  Too bad it wasn't taken under consideration.

            The 'outsiders' were, in comparison to the old crew, what was keeping the station running.  There were three of them, two women and a man, and they seemed able to replace the 'less-advanced' of them.  Beth had to admit that out of the old WNYX crew, Lisa had seemed the most willing to at least try and make everything work.  After the first month, a mood fell over most of them, but Lisa kept at it.  She refused to let herself quit working, claiming that what she wanted most was to get the station steadily on its feet so she could take another crack at her once-failed newspaper. 

            She was the only one who didn't know the regret she was trying to hide.

            "Coffee, Lisa?" Beth offered, rising out of her chair.  Lisa stumbled, reminding the secretary of a certain reporter they had left behind.  Regaining her composure, the brunette eyed her coworker.

            "Alright, what's wrong?" she inquired, brushing past her friend and heading into her rather small office.  Pouting, Beth followed, taking a seat on the news director's desk.  

"I was just offering."  
Lisa laughed.  "You don't offer…  What do you want?"

Taking on a hurt expression, Beth pulled out her nail file and began her day's work.  "Nothing at all; just a break from the new people.  We've been here for an hour already, thank you very much."

Raising her arms in mock surrender and settling into her chair, Lisa grinned.  "I can't help it that Jimmy feels it appropriate to commit to country life and waking up with the farmers… and made me the boss so I can come in whenever."  

"Ha…" Beth answered sarcastically.  As if her brain had clicked on suddenly, she jumped off of Lisa's desk and clasped her hands together, letting her girlishness take over.  "Aren't you excited?  I can't wait!"

Flipping the switch to her laptop, Lisa, unenthused, rummaged through her briefcase.  "About what, Beth?  Is it important, or can we all get back to work?"  It took everything she could muster to not compare her recently acquired attitude to her predecessor's.

Her jaw dropping, Beth crossed her arms.  "Yeah, it sure is!  We have a special guest today.  Didn't anyone tell you?"

Just as her sentence finished, a loud crash echoed throughout the conjoining offices, as if someone had hastily entered and tripped over who-knows-what.

* ~ *

"Um, I don't mean to be rude, but… who the hell is that?"  The eccentric entrance had called the attention of the employees, four of which stood in disbelief.  Skipping forward, Beth pulled her friend to his feet and faced the three unsuspecting, and unwarned, newcomers.

"It is my pleasure to introduce to you, our entertainment for the next week, Matthew."  Not understanding the bit of sarcasm directed towards him, Matthew waved, an innocent grin on his face.  "This is Janet and Ryan, our new reporters, and Cecile, our co-news director with Lisa and _other_ on-air talent."  A snort sounded at Cecile's introduction, and Matthew waved at Max from across the room.

"Good to see you, dude," Joe added, clapping the lanky man on his back.  Comically, Matthew staggered a bit, nodding through a few coughs.  "Gonna have to take you with me to the gym, huh little guy?"

Glancing awkwardly at Janet and Ryan, Cecile plastered a welcoming smile on her face.  "Well, we've heard so… _little_ about you…"

Rubbing her temples, Lisa stared in wonder.  "Matthew, what are you doing here?"

Frowning, the man in question crossed his arms.  "Well, aren't _we_ a pouty puss?  Dave sent me."

"He's on a mission," Beth threw in.  "He's doing a report on us for WNYX."

Keeping her anger intact, Lisa let her hands drop to her hips.  "And no one bothered to warn me…  Being the news director, I figure I have a say in what goes."  Seeing Matthew's hurt expression, she sighed in annoyance.  "I'm not saying that it's not great to see you again, Matt.  It's just that I'm a little busy…"

"Oh, no problem," Matthew countered.  "I'll just wander around and take notes.  Dave warned me about not making a big commotion about coming up here."

Lisa's eyes widened.  "What do you mean?  Are you _staying_ up here?"

Shrugging, Matthew bit his lip.  "He wasn't really specific.  I know I'm not fired: that's crazy talk.  But he made it sound like he wanted me to stay up here for quite a while.  I'm just worried about how my cats are adjusting to the new babysitter over at Mr. James' place."

At the mention of his name, Jimmy James made his entrance beeline towards the huddle.  "We're not spreading rumors about li'l ol' me, are we?  'Cause I swear that I had nothing to do with—"

"No Jimmy, it's nothing like that," Lisa interrupted.  "So, uh, Matthew is staying with you?"

"Yesiree," he answered, straightening his Hawaiian floral shirt.  "He'll be up here for a while, apparently.  Him and them damn cats."

His hurt expression returning, Matthew plopped down on the nearest desk, immediately sliding off and knocking a wastebasket over in his descent.

"Alright people, let's get back to work," Lisa announced, shooing everyone back to their desks.  Pointing at Matthew, her eyes grew stern.  "You stay out of trouble, and I expect to see you doing what you were assigned."  Turning on her heel, she retraced her tracks toward her office, Jimmy already ahead of her.  Letting the door fall shut, she turned to face her former boss, resting in her chair with his feet propped up.

"Not making your routine phone call to WNYX today, Mr. James?" she wondered aloud, taking a seat in the extra chair in front of her desk.  Jimmy shook his head, taking his feet down and leaning forward on his elbows.  Her eyebrows knitting together, Lisa rested her chin on her palm.  "Actually, you haven't called WNYX in a while…  You finally run out of things to chat about?"

If she had been looking closely enough, Lisa could have seen how strained Jimmy's smile was.  "Oh, no, no.  Matthew's here now, and Dave's been busy, so there's no need to call.  Seems like the old station's doing pretty A-okay…"

Lisa snorted.  "With its new crew that actually _does_ work, I figure."

"Yep, well, work _can _be a good thing," Jimmy mused, rising to his feet.  "I don't quite understand it.  I'll see you, little Lisa."

Shaking her head, Lisa couldn't help but grin as she took her seat back in front of her computer.  Time was finally taking its toll, and the game plan was beginning to call in all its teammates.

* ~ *

A month seemed to pass within minutes, and the new troop was beginning to warm up to the somewhat insane visitor from New York.  In fact, Matthew acted as the missing link to the new group, as if they were almost whole now.  _Almost_.  

The 'break room,' which was actually a small foyer at the head of the office that acted as Beth's secretary station, was empty, save for Cecile and Ryan.  They had stayed behind while the others went to lunch, hoping to get a few words in with the atypical reporter from the Big City.  As if on cue, Matthew entered the foyer, coat and lunchbox in hand.

"I hope you're not planning on going out for lunch today, Matt," Ryan broke the silence just as Matthew reached the door.  Looking back, he shrugged.

"I was just planning on sitting in my car," he stated, gesturing with his Ninja Turtle lunchbox.  "But if you want, I'll join you guys."  Ryan grinned, taking Beth's chair while Cecile sat on the edge of the desk.  Seeing no other option, Matthew parked himself on the floor, digging into his lunch.  "What'd you want to chat about?"

Glancing back at Ryan, Cecile cleared her throat.  "I was just curious about WNYX.  We haven't been very successful in terms of relations with your friends in the past two months we've been working here, and we thought it had something to do with your news-radio station."

Chuckling knowingly, Matthew nodded his head.  "Yeah, they left us behind.  Jimmy James up and left, so they all followed.  Dave and I stayed behind…"

"Why is that?" Ryan questioned, leaning forward on his elbows.

Taking a bite out of his PB and J sandwich, Matthew continued talking with his mouth full.  "Dave didn't want to come here.  He thought it would be a big mistake leaving.  I didn't want to abandon him, so I decided I'd work with him forever."  His eyes went starry.  "Dave's my best buddy."

"So will we ever get to meet this amazing guy?" Cecile asked, receiving an 'are you not telling me something' look from Ryan.  "I mean, uh, that is, Beth and Joe say he's so great and all…"

Frowning, Matthew broke out of his reverie.  "What about Max and Lisa?"

"Max scares us.  We try to avoid him."  Ryan and Cecile exchanged glances.  "Lisa doesn't speak all too much about him.  Whenever his name is mentioned, she changes the subject and tells us to get back to work."

"She's starting to sound like him," Matthew chuckled.  "Well anyway, I don't think Dave's up to the trip.  He hasn't been feeling too well lately."

"What's wrong with Dave?"  A worried voice called the attention of the three to the doorway, where Lisa stood, looking as if she'd tie the jacket she held into knots. 

"We thought you went with the rest to lunch, Lisa," Cecile mentioned, standing.  "Did we choose a sensitive subject for you?  We apologize."

Lisa shook her head.  "No need, Cecile."  She turned her attention to Matthew.  "You were saying?"

A bit intimidated, Matthew occupied himself with repacking his lunchbox.  "Oh, oh nothing really.  He's just not at his full 100 percent at the moment.  You know, he's been sick a lot and stuff.  I've been trying to get him to take a sick day, but you know how stubborn he is.  His work-ethics and all that jazz."

Lisa smirked.  "Stubborn is an understatement.  I bet he's just had a bit too much caffeine, is all."  Her expression falling, she pulled on her jacket and nodded to the three as she took her leave.

Once the door fell shut, the three looked at each other.  "Touchy, touchy, touchy."

* ~ *

After leaving the building, Lisa found Beth waiting by her car, tapping her foot impatiently.  "You know, we only have an hour for lunch."

            "And you only eat yogurt, so why are you complaining?"

            Beth smiled innocently.  "Just want to waste more of your time, boss."

            Letting out a small laugh, Lisa ducked into the driver's seat of her white Grand Am, unlocking the door for Beth.  Starting the engine, they pulled out onto the road in search of the nearest bar.  It was awkward having to drive a car to and from work, but welcomed in contrast to the cab rides New York had habituated upon her.

            "You won't believe how ridiculous Dave is," Lisa started, trying to ignore how Beth was flipping rapidly through the radio stations.

            Finding a song of her appeasement, she began humming along with it.  "Oh, what now?"

            "The whole reason he sent Matthew up here was to get him off his back.  I was just talking with Matt, and he says that his poor ol' boss hasn't been feeling very well lately, so he gives Matthew to us to baby-sit."

             A bit taken back by Lisa attitude, the redhead looked shortly at her.  "You think it could be his blood pressure?"

            Feeling a bit ashamed for not considering what Beth conveniently remembered, Lisa bit her lip.  "Oh.  Uh, yeah.  That's probably it.  I've always said he should cut back on his coffee-intake."

            Beth smirked.  "You have?"

            "Oh, quiet," Lisa retorted.  "Still, I don't want to have to play baby-sitter every time Dave feels a bit under the weather."

            "We'll just have to enjoy it while we can," Beth answered, giggling from her own sarcasm.

* ~ *

            It was ten to one when Lisa and Beth returned to the office.  Under much deliberation, Lisa had finally given in to Beth's pleading to drive back from the pub, and Beth, ever the speed-demon, had gotten them back in record-timing.  Unable to stomach the ride much longer, Lisa had jumped out of the car and instructed her secretary to park the car in and empty area of the parking lot while she went and searched for some aspirin.

            Enjoying the calm atmosphere with only the desk lamps on, Lisa decided against flipping on the overhead lights as she looked around for any of her coworkers.  Seeing no one, she headed to her office, stopping in her tracks when she saw someone inside move.  Flustered, she dove to the side of her door, her heartbeat rising.  

            "Yeah, it's me," said the voice from inside.  Lisa let out her held-in breath at the sound of Jimmy's voice.  So he had decided to make a few phone calls after all.  As she was about to enter her office, she changed her mind, a bit curious at the man's secrecy.

            "So how goes it?" Mr. James continued, his voice a bit hushed.  Lisa couldn't help but notice how serious his voice sounded.  She couldn't remember the last time she heard him that way.  Jimmy's breath caught, and through the blinds, Lisa could see him clutch the edge of her desk, his knuckles turning white.  "Have you gotten a second opinion?  All right, all right, calm down.  I'll be making a trip down soon.  I promise not to spread the word just yet."

            As Jimmy bid farewell to the other end of the phone line, Lisa felt a knot form in her stomach.  Who could Jimmy be talking about?  And why was he so worried?

            Breaking her train of thought, Mr. James exited her office, stepping back in surprise at the sight of the brunette.  "Oh, Lisa, back already?"

            Nodding her head, Lisa ran a hand through her hair.  "Yeah, uh, lots of work to do…"

            Agreeing, Jimmy headed towards the foyer, Lisa in tow.  "Decided to make a call after all, huh?" she continued, hoping to get more information out of him.  Shrugging his shoulders, Jimmy glanced back as he opened the entrance door.

            "Just a little business to take care of.  I'll see you around."  Watching his back as he departed, Lisa's nosiness got the best of her.  Picking up the phone on Beth's desk, she punched in the Line 1 button and hit redial, fiddling with the phone's cord as she waited through the rings.  A click sounded from the opposite line, and Lisa gasped.

            "Oh, hi Mrs. Nelson…"

* ~ *


	2. 2

Author's Note:  Behold, the wonders of K-Mart… read on to find out what the hell I mean.

And please, don't forget to check out my website at 

http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986/index.htm

It's full of humor, and I'm looking for art/story donations.  Don't be afraid!  Also, you can drop me a line at:

BitchCakes@dangerous-minds.com

I reply to everyone…  with cookies!

Lose Yourself

Chapter 2

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

            When lunch was behind the workers, the day seemed to drag on forever, especially for Matthew.  His notepad was still empty, for nothing seemed fitting for a report, and he had no computer to play Solitaire on.  Even worse, he had no personal phone to make any calls on.  What's a guy to do?  Work?

            Thankfully, the clock hit 8 o' clock, and for the first time, Matthew congratulated himself on staying for an entire day's worth of work.  "How did I _ever_ survive?" he muttered to himself, trotting into the news director's office for a word.  

            Stopping in the doorway, Matthew began chewing on his nails, a bit nervous at the sight.  Lisa sat at her desk, her hands poised over her keyboard… but the computer screen was off.  Seemingly in a trance, she didn't even notice as Matthew waved a hand in front of her face.

            "Lisa, I'm in love with you."  That got her attention.

            "What the--!?" she jumped out of her chair, clutching the man's hand.  Shaking, Matthew yanked his arm back.

            "Yikes, I was only trying to get your attention."  Seeing her defeated expression, he rested on the side of her desk, watching as she fell lazily back into her seat.  "Something wrong?"

            Wetting her lips with her tongue, Lisa rubbed her temples.  "Just a headache…  Matthew?"

            "Yes?"

            She paused, unsure.  "I think I'll come with you tonight over to Jimmy's."

            Hopping to his feet, Matthew began to bounce around, clapping his hands together.  "A sleepover!  I haven't had one of those…. Well, every night's like a sleepover with Choo-Choo and Mitt-Mitt.  But I don't believe we've ever really gotten to bond, so this'll be great!" 

            Raising her eyebrows, Lisa shook her head.  "Uh, right Matthew.  Right.  Well, I'll just wrap up here, and I'll follow you there with my car."  When Matthew didn't budge, she sighed.  "What?"

            Nudging at a snag in the carpeting with the toe of his shoe, Matthew gave her his best puppy dog look.  "Jimmy drove me in today.  Could I hitch a ride with you?"

* ~ *

            It wasn't until 8:30 that Lisa and Matthew finally headed out to Mr. James' large, stately cabin.  It took a good half an hour to get there, and Lisa was ready to smash her head through her windshield just so she wouldn't have to endure her passenger's sing-a-longs anymore.  She was counting her blessings as she turned into the hidden, quarter-mile long driveway leading up to the ranch.

            Pulling into park and cutting the engine, Lisa climbed out and looked on in amazement at the residence, Jimmy's wealth slapping her in the face once again.  The home was beautiful, its outside made entirely of stacked logs.  It was larger than the office building she worked at now, spanning the length of at least two good-sized houses.  It was complete with a four-car garage, raised deck surrounding the house entirely, and from what she could see, four chimneys.  

            "Nice, huh?" Matthew murmured, breathing in the fresh air.  Nodding, the two hiked up the steps to the deck and pushed the door open, eliciting another round of 'wows' from Lisa.  The inside was completely wood as well, including the elaborate staircase to the second floor.  The furniture was of an Indian design, and candles donned almost every available ledge.  It truly was a vacation dream home.

            "Lisa!" Jimmy's voice boomed from the direction of the kitchen.  Turning to greet the voice, Lisa smiled.  Carrying a rather large submarine sandwich filled to the hilt, Jimmy headed over to them, looking around in pride.  "This is the first time you've seen my estate, isn't it?  You were so well off when we first arrived in New Hampshire, you didn't even need to stay with Uncle Jimmy."

            "It's breathtaking," Lisa admitted.  Jimmy chuckled, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

            "I'm just glad for another visitor besides Matthew," he murmured under his breath.  Lisa giggled, scratching the back of her head.

            "Understandable."

            "Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you like," Mr. James continued, taking a bite out of his sandwich.  "But what brings you here in the first place, little lady?"

            Twiddling her fingers, Lisa hesitated.  She gestured in the direction of his den, hoping for comfort while they discussed what she feared was true.  Obliging, Jimmy led the way, taking a seat in a large, overstuffed leather recliner, Lisa sitting across from him on the wood and suede sofa.

            "So?"

            Clearing her throat, she braced herself.  "Sir, I hope you aren't angry with me, but I overheard your phone conversation today.  My curiosity got the best of me, I admit, and I hit redial to see who it was."  Glancing up from her hands, she noted Jimmy's crestfallen demeanor.  

            "Did Mrs. Nelson say anything?"  Lisa shook her head.

            "No, I told her I dialed the wrong number…  But I do have a few questions, if you don't mind."  

Jimmy was quiet, contemplating his situation.  He _had_ promised…  Lisa continued.  "Matthew said Dave had been sick lately…"

"Yeah, yeah that's true," Mr. James picked up where she left off.  "Before we even left, he hadn't been at his best, I suppose.  He's just so stubborn…"

"So I've heard," Lisa chuckled, despite the mood.  She didn't like how the atmosphere shifted.

Removing his glasses, Jimmy cleaned the lenses with his shirt.  "I don't know where to begin…  His blood pressure -- you know how that had been a problem."  Lisa nodded, urging him to continue.  Jimmy sighed.  "I've kept in touch with him the best I could, and he seemed to get worse every day.  One week a few months ago, he came down with the flu.  He never got over it, I believe, and he only got weaker.  From what I've heard from his mother, recently, he was found in his office, unconscious."

Her throat tightening, Lisa stammered.  "What… what are you trying to say?"

"Lisa… Dave's in a coma."

* ~ *

Lisa was in disbelief.  The clock struck two AM, and she was still in the same position from before, eyes locked with the father figure of a man.  An occasional blink was the only thing that had separated their gazes for hours, the story unable to register clearly with her.  Jimmy was speechless as well, for one of the first times, and was clueless as how to comfort the woman.  Her feelings over the past two years had been mixed for the now struggling man, but of course, they had remained close friends.  He had no idea how the impact of the news would truly effect her.

At last breaking the dead-lock between them, Lisa's eyes drifted down to the glass of wine in her hand, which she hadn't remembered pouring.  Swirling the red liquid in the goblet, she took a sip, shuddering as it slipped down her parched throat.  Her eyes stung with dryness, and she rubbed at them, sleep clouding her mind.

"Lisa, I think you should go on up to bed," Jimmy stated softly, taking a drink out of his own glass.  He too was tired, as well as a bit angry with himself for letting his former employee find out the harsh secret he had been keeping.  True, he knew he should have told her, but was there ever a right time?  What with all of the work she had been doing on her newspaper, with its failing, and then the dedication to the new station.  Not to mention Johnny.

"I… Oh God, I didn't even tell Johnny where I…" she read his mind, easing herself out of her seat and nearly dropping the glass she held onto the table before her.  "May I use your phone, Mr. James?"

Nodding, Jimmy pointed in the direction of the kitchen, watching Lisa's back as she departed.  He could sense her guilt, and how it had been accumulating ever since her first day in New Hampshire.  Sure, Johnny wasn't the best husband, but Lisa was the only one who couldn't admit her own regret of the marriage.  It had been too soon… and too wrong.

Picking up both of their glasses, Jimmy rose to his feet, stretched a moment to buy Lisa phone time, then slowly followed Lisa's path into the kitchen.  Trying not to pay attention to her hushed conversation, obviously with her answering machine, Jimmy busied himself with washing up the goblets, until their eyes met once more.  She bit her lip, the awkward pause of her recording set in thought.  Mr. James nodded his head in agreement, his first genuine smile of the day settling on his lips.  

Inhaling a fresh breath of air slowly, Lisa continued with her message.  "I'm going to be going on a little trip… to New York."

* ~ *

"You know… I think Lisa's taking this 'boss privilege' thing too far."  Beth snapped her gum in annoyance as Joe, Max and she lounged in the news director's office, it being the most comfortable.  Joe, busy fiddling with Lisa's out-of-date laptop, glanced at her, silently agreeing.  It was already an hour until lunchtime, and their 'beloved' boss hadn't made an appearance as of yet.

"Maybe she's having an extravagant breakfast this morning," Max offered, staring into space longingly.  "Pancakes, bacon, sausage… steak and eggs… waffles…"

Disgusted, Beth frowned.  "She's not _you_, Max.  She probably just slept in late or something…"

"I don't think so," Matthew interrupted, entering the office, bags beneath his eyes and hair mussed more than usual.  "It's terrible, you guys!"

Holding back his sarcastic remarks, Max laughed.  "What happened to you?"

Matthew whimpered.  "Lisa came home with us last night, and when I woke up, neither of them were there!  They didn't even leave a note!  Let me tell you, my cats aren't happy."

A bit worried, though an expert at hiding it, Beth took a break from her magazine flipping and looked up.  "Where could they have—"?

The phone ringing, causing the group to jump in unison cut off her sentence.  "Can we say coincidence?"  Beth picked up the phone, already knowing whom it was.  "Alright Lisa, where is your butt at?"

Her derision rising, Lisa grimaced.  "I won't be in today, or for a while, for that matter."

Curiosity rising, Beth hit the speakerphone button and set down the receiver.  "You won't be at work for a while, Lisa?" she asked again, watching amusedly as the group huddled around.

"Yeah.  Can you relay the message to Cecile?  I want her in charge while I'm gone."  A collective groan answered her statement, and Lisa sighed back.  "Hi Joe, Matthew, Max.  So nice of you to put me on speaker, Beth."

"My pleasure," Beth giggled, ignoring her boss's sarcasm.  "So _why_ won't you be in?"

A pause followed, raising the anticipation of the gang.  "I'm on my way to New York."

"Why?" Matthew shouted, a bit offended.  "_I'm _already_ here_, what more do you need?"

"Well, because there's something wrong wi—" Lisa's speech cut out, a struggle sounding in the background as if someone was wrestling the cell phone out of her hand.  Within a minute, Mr. James' voice replaced that of Lisa's.

"Howdy-do, all, this is Mr. James," he addressed them, a bit out of breath.  The group greeted him back, not fazed by what had just taken place in the car.  "We're just taking a little vacation to New York to see how it all goes.  Any questions?"

"Yeah," Max started boldly.  "Why couldn't _we_ come?"

Jimmy chuckled.  "Then who would be left to slack off at the station?  Face it; Cecile, Janet and Ryan need you to put them behind in their work."  A collective bout of "oh's" and "that's right's" answered the older man, who winked at the driver beside him.  "So we'll give you a call when we get there.  You know, give some updates and whatnot.  If you're all good while I'm gone, you can expect some souvenirs from the hospi— I mean, K-Mart."

"Oh wow, an actual K-Mart in New York?" Matthew squealed.  "I've never gotten anything from an actual _K-Mart_ before!"

"I'll be looking through the blue-light specials just for you, Matthew," Jimmy added, chuckling.  "So ta-ta all, and be good."

The final click sounded and the speakerphone cut out, leaving a batch of people a bit wide-eyed, gossiping to each other about what Jimmy might get them from the little-known 'Mart.  Outside the office, Janet listened, shaking her head.  From what Matthew had said to Ryan and Cecile, and from what she overheard of Lisa and Jimmy's little slip-ups in their conversations, she knew what was going on.  And Cecile wouldn't be happy.


	3. 3

Author's Note:  Okay, so I don't know Dave's mom's first name.  Sorry.  It'll be okay, though…  Also, behold my knowledge…  You'll see. 

Oh, one last thing.  I don't want to be like one of those authors who require a certain number of reviews before posting another chapter, but you know… **Reviews really inspire me to write longer chapters and post them quicker!  ^_^  **I'm not saying anything, just suggesting… come on, aspiring author's need comments!!!  I'm so lonely over here!

And of course, visit my webpage at http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986/index.htm.  It'll be worth your while, and I'll be posting my comedy troupe's Public Access Channel Page soon.  Long live the Kids in the Hall!!!!!!!!!

Lose Yourself

Chapter 3

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

She felt at peace amidst the balloons, flowers, and cards that decorated the walls all around his hospital bed.  Of course, a third of everything had been from her, and more was on the way.  Her demeanor was much calmer than it had been for quite a while, and it had been a week since the last time she cried.  Her hopes had ascended into knowingness when he had woken up for the first time.  It had only been for a few minutes before he slipped back into deep unconsciousness, but within those few minutes, her belief in him had soared.  Though he didn't look it, she knew that he was the strongest man she knew, and that soon he'd wake up again, and she'd be there to help him along the way.

Keeping her mind away from the possibilities the doctor had given, the ones she chose not to believe, was hard, but doable.  Day after day, she visited, offering the nurses help to the point of annoyance, and doing little things that she was sure made him comfortable, conscious or not.  Surprisingly, he didn't grow much facial hair, reminding her of his meek boyishness, so she didn't have to shave him all too much.  But that was just another reason to get closer, to keep reality away.  

That was another obstacle she had to overcome; reality of the situation of her first visit to WNYX a few years ago.  When he was still hers, intentionally or not, and when they were still happy.  But now, save for a few, she was all he had left, and for that tiny morsel of reality, she was grateful.  For all that the Gods had taken away, they had left just one little gift, and it was for her.

"Nancy dear, visiting hours are just about over."  Nancy offered a small smile in the direction of the soothing voice of Mrs. Nelson, and, reluctantly, pushed back her chair.  Leaning over to set a light kiss on Dave's forehead, she stepped back so his mother could do the same.  With a short, un-returnable wave, she followed Mrs. Nelson out of the bleach-white room, flicking the light switch so Dave could slumber in peace.  

* ~ *

            Lisa couldn't help the small laugh that escaped as she watched Mr. James' attempts of making his hotel suite, connected with hers by a conjoining door, seem like his recently-made home.  Out of one of his many suitcases, he pulled out frames holding pictures of his sightseeing around the world and, after hammering a few nails in the walls, hung them.  She could just picture the look on the hotel-owner's face when he found the little redecorating notions Jimmy had left.  A few stuffed animals, what Lisa could guess were actually real, donned the corners of the expensive suite, and finally, a few logs of wood were scattered around the floor, representing the cabin itself.

            "I'm surprised you got the best suite in the—" Lisa caught herself.  The extravagantly rich man could afford anything, she remembered, and only the best.  To top it off, the hotel was only a few miles away from the hospital where Dave was staying.  "Jimmy, what hospital is—"?

            "None other than the best hospital in New York," he answered, pulling a bottle of wine out of the rather large mini-bar.  "NYCH, New York City Hospital."  Lisa almost slapped herself at the irony.  "When do you want to head out?"

            Eyeing the relatively inviting bottle in Jimmy's hand, Lisa figured she should settle her nerves first.  Selecting two fine tumblers from the bar's overhead cabinet, she offered them to Jimmy, who in turn poured the dark liquid for both of them.  Taking the whole of it down in one swig, Lisa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, ignoring the unladylike attribute, then held out her glass for a refill.  Resting her forehead in her hand, she closed her eyes, enjoying the aroma of the drink in her hand.  It was comforting somewhat, in comparison to everything else, she guessed.  She was still questioning herself whether or not it was a good idea to come all the way out to New York.  It wasn't like she'd make much of a difference, but as Jimmy had put it the night before without any words, it was a given.  It felt right to come back to the busy city; New Hampshire would have to wait.

            Noticing Lisa's crestfallen bearing, Jimmy agreed with her.  "Too soon?"

            "For what?" she replied, snapping out of her reverie.  "To go see him?  Why would it be too soon?  I mean, it's not like he'll be able to greet us or anything, so why would it be awkward…?"  Her voice trailed off, her eyes squeezed shut for a moment.  "I just… I just can't see him like that."

            Laying his arm around her quivering shoulders, Mr. James hugged the younger woman gently.  He understood how hard it was for her, but it would be hard for everyone.  If Dave's own mother could face the truth, that her own son might not wake to see another day, then Lisa would just have to pull herself together.  

            "Reality can be a kick in the ass.  Trust me on that one."  He pulled her closer.  "But it's something we all have to face sooner or later.  And for Dave… it's a little sooner than he deserves."

* ~ *

            If the calendar was correct, and Mrs. Nelson hated to admit that it, without a doubt, was, her son had been kept at NYCH for just about a month and a half.  A month and a half of heartache and waiting.  The day he had fallen unconscious in his office, his secretary had called an ambulance, and he was admitted to the hospital.  Thanks to the physicians, he had gained consciousness that evening, and had been allowed to give her a call and let her know of the incidents that had taken place over the past few months.  Angry at her son for not letting her know of any of it sooner, Mrs. Nelson had booked a trip from Wisconsin to New York in a few days time.  Unfortunately, due to recent storms and delays, those few days had been postponed to nearly a month.  She had missed his waking not long ago, but had gotten the word-by-word playback from Nancy the day she arrived.  He had woken for nearly five minutes, dazed and confused, then, before any assistance could arrive to keep him vital, he slipped away once more.

            Even now, she felt as if she were smothering the boy.  The very week he had submitted to a bit of depression, Mr. Nelson had fallen to a heart attack.  His father had been subject to Type 2 Diabetes.  It had hit Dave hard, and he had refused to speak to his own mother for a time; instead, he threw himself into his work.  Now, after learning the verdict of her son's condition, she didn't know what to do with herself.  He was all she had left, and he was gradually slipping out of her grasp.

            A nurse, coming in to check David's vitals, cut the tired mother's train of thought.  Offering a reassuring smile, the burly, overweight nurse tapped the monitor.  "He's doing well, Mrs. Nelson."

            "Any sign of actual improvement?" Dave's mother wondered aloud, her eyes never breaking from her son.  Scanning the clipboard she held as she wrote out the evening's statistics, the nurse shook her head.  

            "He seems to be at the same point as yesterday, ma'am.  No improvement, but no decline."  Striding over to the woman's side, she rested a hand on her shoulder.  "Ma'am, Nancy is here.  Would you like me to send her in?"

            Nodding, Mrs. Nelson gave her the ok, rising to her feet.  Just as soon as the nurse left, the once-bubbly young lady floated in.  Giving her son's ex a heartfelt smile, she held out her arms, the two embracing warmly.

            "I brought you some dinner, Patricia," Nancy offered, presenting the wicker basket she held on her arm.  "You've been here the whole day, haven't you?"

            Taking her seat again, Patricia pulled up the hospital tray on wheels and set it between her and the chair Nancy had occupied.  "Nothing else is important.  But how did you manage to sneak this food up here?"

            Holding back a sigh, Nancy answered.  "The patient I'm visiting isn't responding, so I can't exactly disrupt their strict hospital diet."  Nancy changed the subject.  "Well, I got off work early, so I stopped by that restaurant down Third Street and got us a little something."

            "That's awfully sweet of you, dear," Mrs. Nelson added, taking the paper plate the younger woman was handing to her.  "I appreciate everything you've done."

            Blushing, Nancy looked over at the immobile man.  "I'd gladly do anything…"

            "Mrs. Nelson…" The heavily built nurse stood in the doorway, eyeing the illegal food that was being laid out, but dismissing it.  "There are two more visitors in the lobby wanting to come up.  Shall I send them in?"

            Puzzled, Patricia searched her memory.  "No one else has come up from Wisconsin since the last batch…  Who is it?"

            "The man referred to the both of them as the 'Jimmy Party,'" she answered, her statement more of a question.  Grinning, Mrs. Nelson agreed to have them up.  It had been awhile since the last time she saw Jimmy, even though they had kept in touch with the ritualistic phone calls they made to each other.  But whom had he brought with him?

            "Patricia, it's good to see you," Mr. James announced as he walked into the room, pulling the now standing woman into a hug.  Releasing her, he acknowledged Nancy with a smile, remembering vaguely the boy's ex-girlfriend from Wisconsin.

            "So you finally made it up to New York?" Mrs. Nelson interrogated, crossing her arms with a chuckle.  "Who'd you bring with you?"

            Holding a beat, Jimmy replied.  "A good friend of Dave's is all.  She's out in the hall at the moment, chatting with the doctor, I do believe."

            At the word 'she,' Nancy's grip on the arms of her chair tightened.  Silently, she prayed it wasn't who she thought it was.

* ~ *

            Waiting in the lobby, the minutes seemed like hours, the secretary on hold with the line upstairs.  Lisa was just about to bang her head against the counter when finally, the blond woman told them to go on up to room 722 on the third floor.  Thanking her, Mr. James led the way to the elevator, punched in the buttons, and watched as the metal doors slid shut, as if to say there wasn't any turning back.

            "What am I so nervous about?" Lisa muttered under her breath, leaning against the mirrored wall.  Jimmy didn't answer, not knowing what to say.  Instead, he kept his eyes on the digital chart above the doors, watching the numbers steadily increase.  When the doors slid open, they were welcomed by the musty odor stereotypical of a hospital.  The walls were blanched and somewhat blinding, causing them to squint at first sight.  The lobby on this floor was much like the main one on the first floor, save a bit smaller.  A rather rotund woman waved them over, asking their names, then pointed them in the right direction.  Thanking her, the two headed down the narrow hallway, keeping their eyes peeled for the room number.

            Without thought, Lisa began straying behind Jimmy, her eyes casting into the rooms they passed.  Each one held such sadness; a crying wife over her husband, a child with a broken leg, a lonely senior citizen, staring blankly out the window.  With each door she walked by, the slower her pace grew.  Her feet felt so heavy, as if weights were attached to her ankles, but ropes were tired around her wrists, dragging her unwillingly forward.  Looking up, she caught a glimpse of the number on the wall beside her: 722.  When she tried reaching for the handle, her hand gripped her pants instead, and her body rested itself solidly against the door.

            "Excuse me, miss," a voice careened itself into Lisa's thoughts, drawing her attention away from the nervousness she felt.  Lifting her chin, she acknowledged a lanky man standing before her, most possible in his early fifties with graying hair and large glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.  He extended a hand to her, which she awkwardly took and shook.

            "I assume you're here to see Mr. Nelson?" he began, flipping through his chart attached to the clipboard the nurse had used earlier.  Agreeing, Lisa attempted to peek at the chart, but withdrew, her anxiety getting the best of her.  Grinning politely, the doctor continued.

            "Well if you have any questions, my name is Dr. Cohen.  I was just on my way in to check his insulin level…" Lisa's expression contorted at his words.

            "Uh… why would he need insulin injections?"  The doctor met her gaze, realization washing over him.

            "You haven't been informed of Mr. Nelson's condition, then?" he assumed once again, pushing his glasses more firmly against his nose.  Shaking her head, Lisa crossed her arms in apprehension.  

            "He's in a coma, I know," she started, her throat clenching as she spoke.  The physician took a breath, glancing through the diagrams once more before meeting her eyes.

            "I'm afraid he's been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, which makes him insulin-dependent."

            The room, at this point, began to spin, and the air grew thin.  Again, Lisa's body fell roughly against the door behind her, her hand flying to her mouth.  She felt a hand on her shoulder, the doctor's, but she shook it off, immediately apologizing for her rudeness.  Rubbing her eyes, she straightened, running a hand through her hair.  "But… he's in his thirties…  I mean, isn't Type 1 Diabetes 'Juvenile Diabetes'?"

            Agreeing, the doctor took his glasses into his hands.  "Yes, the term 'Juvenile Diabetes' is correct.  But there have been cases of older people acquiring this disease."  Seeing her confusion, he continued.  "Type 1 Diabetes is very rare, in comparison to Type 2.  Only around five to ten percent of diabetics have this form and, like you said, it usually effects youths.  There have been some cases, though, and Mr. Nelson is one of the few."

            "Why couldn't we have seen this coming?" she wondered out loud, her arms crossing defensively in front of her once again.  

            The doctor sighed.  "That's what's terrible about this disease.  It's like an onslaught, if you will.  Symptoms can appear out of nowhere, even after feeling relatively healthy for the majority of your life.  These symptoms develop more rapidly and with more severity than that of Type 2 diabetics.  Mr. Nelson had been experiencing some indications of this, such as extreme tiredness, blurred vision, weight loss, and then finally, he fell unconscious."  Pausing, he gave her a sympathetic look.  "He waited so long before reporting these and getting treatment, ma'am.  His blood glucose levels rose very high, and his body began breaking down body fat for energy at an advanced pace.  This resulted in his extensive weight loss, and produced ketones, which build up in the blood.  This is called Ketoacidosis, which causes the body to become acidic.  And since he was untreated, it lead to his present coma."

            Digesting the information, Lisa could feel wetness at her eyes, which she quickly brushed away.  It explained Matthew's rambling of Dave's not feeling well over the past few months; and could it possibly be why Dave thought it was 'a big mistake' for them all to leave New York?  He must have known _something_ wasn't right with him…

            When she looked up, the doctor had already headed inside Dave's room, leaving her to settle her mind.  The more the veracity of the situation sunk in, the more nauseous she felt, as well as the more tears that stung her eyes.  Putting her hands to her temples and massaging lightly, she groaned, coming to a decision.  With one last glance towards the closed door separating her and her loved one, she trotted down the hall towards the elevator.

* ~ *

(Another) Author's Note:  This was a very hard chapter for me, and from now on, this story won't be easy for me to write.  (so if you're wondering why I know so much… You have to be aware of what your genetics carry, in case the same fate comes upon you). I write this story partially to keep my readers informed of such consequences. Please, if you have family history in this or not, be attentive to such things as diabetes or etc., because if you _are_ aware, you can prevent future tragedies. And to my family who are now with the Gods, my heart is with you. Blessed be.


	4. 4

Author's Note:  So right about now, I'm hoping you all don't hate me.  I had this story on a week's hiatus all for good reason:  I was enduring Colorguard Boot Camp.  For those of you who don't know what Colorguard is, we're those pretty girls (and guys at times) who do that 'thing' with flags (the sport/art form is next in line for the Olympics.  Enough said.)  So while I whittled away at my bones and lost about 15 pounds beneath the unforgiving sun growing darker than a Dutch girl should and perfecting 20 minute routines and tosses that could land on the roof of a house… I thought of you, the reader.  So for the precious ten minutes before I couldn't help the unconsciousness, I wrote, and reread, and wrote again, and reread again… and realized that I really should get one of those beta reader things.  I think I'm making Lisa come across weaker/dumber than she should…  Even though it _is_ such a sensitive plot…  Anyways, thanks for all the reviews, and I'll keep 'em coming if you keep on wanting them.

Lose Yourself

Chapter 4

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

            It was hard for Jimmy to find words, to face this man who had for so long been as close of a match to himself in terms of will, wit and business.  He wasn't sure how to talk to him, knowing he wouldn't answer; the encouragement from the women behind him didn't help, either.

            Shoving his hands in his pockets, a manner he had attuned himself to, Jimmy drew nearer to the bedside, his eyes craning down at Dave's sleeping form.  "I remember one time, you paid me nine dollars to hear my feelings of my employees and such; to hear my words."  Pulling his hand out of his pocket, his wallet came with it.  He took out a crisp ten dollar bill and set it on the tray beside the bed, tapping it with his index finger.  "Now I'd like to hear yours."

Glancing at the clock, which told that nearly an hour had passed, Jimmy finally noticed a missing presence in the room.  He started towards the door, pausing at Patricia Nelson's questioning.

            "Lisa never made it up," he answered, opening the door.  "I better go find out what happened to her."  Kissing the two women on their cheeks, he gave them his goodbyes and well wishes, promising that he'd return tomorrow.  Coughing to get Jimmy's attention, Patricia pointed to the tray beside Dave.  Nodding, Jimmy trotted over, grabbed his money and slapping his forehead comically, then left. 

             Once the door shut quietly behind him, Jimmy headed towards the third floor lobby, asking the same nurse he had seen earlier if she had seen the young woman he had entered with.

            "Yes, I saw her leave through the elevators not long ago, sir," she answered, pointing in the said direction.  Thanking her, Mr. James followed Lisa's path downstairs and then out to the parking garage, taking a moment to remember where they had parked.  When he came to the car, he found Lisa in the driver's seat, head lolled back with her eyes closed.  Tapping on the passenger window for her to unlock the door, he climbed in, fastening his seatbelt without a word.  Lisa started the ignition, revving the engine slightly before pulling out of the lot and onto the street.

            Unable to meet her friend's eyes, Lisa kept her gaze trained ahead of her.  "You spoke with the doctor?"  Jimmy's question seemed far away, and it took a moment for the words to touch.  Gulping back more silent sobs, she nodded, trying with her might to keep her eyes straightforward.  But when Jimmy's hand rested on her arm, she felt a warm tear trail down her cheek.

            "I just couldn't…"

* ~ *

            Janet sat at her desk, waiting impatiently for Cecile and Max to wrap up their final broadcast in the radio's windowed room.  Catching Cecile's eye, she made a 'hurry up' motion with her hands, and then tapped her watch.  

            "In a bit of a hurry, are we?" Ryan murmured, sneaking up from behind his fellow reporter.  Jumping slightly, Janet swiveled her chair around to face him.

            "I've got some news," she answered, a twinkle in her eye.  "About that news director from WNYX."  Not wanting to spill the beans too early and be overhead by the slightly less… _observant_ coworkers, she turned back to watch the booth, where Cecile thankfully hit the "off-air" switch and began packing up.  Ignoring Max's eccentric announcement of "That's a wrap!" Cecile followed him out and over to her two favored colleagues.  Trying to look busy, the three waited a mere half of a minute for the office to empty out, leaving them to their gossip.

            Checking her watch, Cecile tried not to look annoyed.  "What's so important, Janet?"

            Beaming, Janet latched onto her wrist.  "Dave Nelson…"

            That grasped Cecile's attention.  Ryan was the first to answer: "Yeah, we established that."

            Casting the man behind her a look, Janet returned to the woman before her.  "He's in the hospital.  I believe it's a rather serious condition, accounting the way Lisa and Jimmy James spoke of it.  Not directly, of course, but I deduced."  She smiled, albeit a bit sarcastically.  "Aren't you proud of me?" 

            Though her eyes glimmered, Cecile seemed unfazed.  Taking her briefcase into her hand, she bid her goodbyes, leaving her confidantes to their shock.

* ~ *

            The hotel room had a breathtaking view of the city, it being on the top floor of the building.  The suite, though not as large as some, was extravagant and spacious, and Jimmy adored the bay windows that acted as a wall in the sitting room.  And the one thing that made the suite perfect was that he had a 'roomie' to share it with… even though she wasn't, at the moment, the most fun person to be around.  

            It had been a chore for Mr. James to avoid listening in on Lisa's telephone conversations with Johnny.  He figured he was turning into a natural Beth…  Though the calls were rare, when Lisa did get in touch with her husband, the tête-à-tête weren't very loving.  There were moments when Lisa would raise her voice, but they never lasted longer than half a minute.  Afterwards, she'd slam the phone down, and the entire suite would go silent.  Then, Jimmy's heart would sink; quiet, smothered crying could be heard from behind Lisa's closed door.  Every time, he had wanted to go in and comfort her.  But what was there for him to say?

            At this moment, that was why he was busying himself, staring out the window, trying to ignore the shouts that came from her room.  Gladly, they were unintelligible from his distance, but still, he could tell that the words were heated.  What surprised him was when the anger in the yelling began breaking into open sobs, cracking with each breath she took.  Closing his eyes and resting his head against the windowpane, Jimmy waited for the bawling to subside.  When it did, the silence didn't come.  Instead, he could hear Lisa throw her door open, stomping her feet all the while, and then leave, slamming the next door.  

* ~ *

Her step wasn't as bright today as Nancy headed down the hall towards room 722, a fresh bouquet of flowers in hand.  Smelling the perfume they emitted made her feel at ease, though a headache was rapidly growing.  The incident from last night hadn't been very comforting, and she wasn't looking forward to any new visitors.

            Once in the room, she smiled.  She had called for an extra quarter hour for lunch and, understanding the pain she was enduring, her boss had compassionately agreed.  When Dave had first been admitted to the hospital, she had received a phone call from Mrs. Nelson, as had just about everyone else who had known her son.  Within two days, she was on her way from Wisconsin to the big city, and had stayed ever since.  After the first few weeks, she had driven herself into a rut of near-depression, and, of the empathetic request from Mrs. Nelson to 'get her mind of things,' Nancy had searched for a job and been hired as a waitress at a quaint little restaurant near to the hospital.

            Dumping out the slightly wilted carnations at Dave's bedside table, Nancy replaced them with the new assorted bouquet, her mind wandering to the phone call from Patricia what seemed so long ago.  She could remember every word.  She could remember every exchanged tear between them.  Before, she and Mrs. Nelson hadn't been very close, but in history, she recalled, with every tragedy comes some joy.  She was like a second mother now to Nancy, and when she got closer to Patricia, she felt like she got closer to Dave.

            But the phone call…  Once again, she found herself spiting those who worked at WNYX, save Matthew, who had most likely no clue what was going on.  It was hard to be mad at him… but then, Lisa, who had failed to make an appearance yesterday, was a different story.  Months had passed, and _now_ she wanted to visit.  Nancy had prayed nightly that her and Dave's relationship was over.  She figured Dave wasn't very good with commitment, but Lisa's finally showing up wavered her judgment a bit.  But again, why hadn't any of the WNYX crew come?  True, Nancy wasn't there 24-7, but she and Mrs. Nelson were there enough to know if any of them had showed face.  Did they not care?

            A muted knock drew Nancy out of her daydream, and as the door opened, she began gritting her teeth. 

* ~ *

            A sudden intake of breath caused Lisa to choke, grasping her throat as she coughed.  Seated a few feet away from her, hands clasped in her lap and a disbelieving expression on her face was Nancy, her eyes randomly scanning the new company.  Regaining composure, Lisa's mouth formed words, but no sound produced.  Instead, her stare settled on the man resting on the gurney-like bed.  The man that the last time she saw was telling her of the mistake she was making.  She hadn't listened, but she wished he were able to tell her that now.

            A clear respirator's mask covered his mouth and nose, and tubes ran down his throat and attached to the respirator behind his bed.  Two IV's were connected to him, one of which seemed to be an insulin pump.  Besides the three obvious extensions, the others were unfamiliar to Lisa, and she didn't want to know what they were for. 

            What the doctor spoke of the day before began registering at the sight of Dave's small form.  He had, apparently, lost a substantial amount of weight, so much that in between the tubing and mask he wore over his mouth, Lisa couldn't even make out his boyish dimples.  His arms and wrists were thin, and it seemed as if the IV's and tubing were sucking the very life out of his limbs.  His skin was blanched in pallor, his hair had grown lighter, and she could only guess the fading of his once stunning blue eyes.

            "He woke, once," Nancy murmured, reaching out and touching the man's hand gingerly.  "Quite a while ago.  The doctors say he isn't improving, but he's not getting any worse."

            Lisa's hand inched closer to Dave's, but within centimeters, she withdrew, clutching them instead.  "Will he… will he, uh…"? She stifled another choke, berating herself for her weakness.

            "I know he will," Nancy finished for her.  "He did it once, he can do it again."

* ~ *

            After a succinct chat with the third floor lobby secretary, Patricia Nelson wrote her name on the sign-in sheet and started towards the room that had become like a second home.  She had gotten caught in the noonday lunch rush, but, though she despised traffic immensely, she had made her way through to the hospital.  Jimmy James had promised to make another visit, and she hadn't wanted to miss him.  He had been like a father to David while he was away from his own, and through the tough times, he had been unbelievable.  He had given her husband an amazingly touching funeral, and of the current events, had agreed to pay what Dave's medical insurance didn't cover.  She had so much to thank him for, and she didn't know where or how to begin.

            Rounding the corner, Patricia hefted her purse higher on her shoulder, slowing her pace at the sight of a young woman leaving room 722.  Dismissing the notion that she was a nurse, for she lacked the uniform, Mrs. Nelson continued forward, ready to introduce herself.

            "Excuse me, dear," she started, bending to see the woman's down-turned face.  Lisa, not wanting to be rude, straightened and extended her hand, noticing the familiar features of the woman.  She was a much more feminine, of course, and prettier version of Dave, save a few manly characteristics.  Breathing back the sniffles she had held, she smiled at the elder.

            "You must be Mrs. Nelson."  Patricia nodded.

            "Patricia.  Pardon my informality, but who are you, dear?"

            Pausing a beat to close the door behind her, Lisa answered.  "Lisa Miller-Johnson.  I used to be an associate of your son's."

            A bemused look washed over Mr. Nelson's face.  "Ah … 'used to be'?"

            Lisa nodded.  "A few others and I moved to a different station in New Hampshire with Mr. James."

            "Oh yes," Patricia returned.  "I knew Jimmy left WNYX.  He took a few of you with him?"

            Biting her lip, Lisa continued.  "Uh, no.  You see, we had been working with Mr. James for so long.  He's like family to us.  When he decided to move on to New Hampshire, we chose to follow."

            Patricia stopped, staring the brunette in the eyes.  "David didn't join you?"

            "He didn't want to," Lisa answered, her hands writhing together.  For some reason, this woman made her nervous.  "He thought it was a mistake for us to leave him."

            "You left him behind?"  She shook her head.  "Pardon my impertinence, but while I adore Jimmy, wasn't my son 'like family' to you as well?"

            Gulping, Lisa backed off slightly.  "Of course, Mrs. Nelson.  We just thought it would be best for us—" 

            "For you to leave him behind.  I see." Patricia motioned for Lisa to step aside and grasped the door handle.  "I know he'd hate me for telling you this, but Dave has always been pretty damn good at hiding his emotions.  Now that I hear all of this, things make sense.  Now I know why he was so depressed months ago.  He loses his friends, he loses his father…" She opened the door and, stepping inside, turned back.  "He loses himself."

* ~ *

(Another) Author's Note:  Oh, I forgot to mention:  Thanks to those who gave their sympathy.  It is much appreciated, and I send the love right back at ya!

If you are or will be in the Metro-Detroit area the weekend of October 6th, listen up!  The annual Foundation for Diabetes 6-Mile Walk is taking place.  It's like what the title says: you gather up donations (for example, someone will pay you a dollar for each mile you walk) and then you walk the number of miles you can.  In return, for how much money you raise for your team or for just yourself, you get prizes.  The biggest prize (I think you need to raise about $5,000), you get a DVD player and $200 gift certificate to Lands'End (a really nice store.)  If you're interested and would like more information, feel free to e-mail me at BitchCakes@dangerous-minds.com.  Your generosity will help raise money for children with diabetes as well as further research on a cure.  Thanks again!


	5. 5

Author's Note:  PLEASE READ!!!  

I'd like to send a thanks out to L (or is it J?  You changed your initial between two reviews) at popepotsie@aol.com, Crystal, and Meg, three very helpful reviewers.  You brought to my attention a few issues, and now, I shall resolve them.

First, I'll review the new characters.  Nancy:  Remember at the beginning of the show, Dave had a girlfriend from Wisconsin who came up to WNYX for an episode (guest star Genine Garofolo – sorry if that's a misspell.  My bad!)  Well, her name was Nancy, and I am reusing her character.  And if I've confused you, I'm sorry, but no, Dave and Nancy are not married. Patricia – Ok, I made a mistake.  Dave's mom's name is Mary Anne (thanks for the info Meg!).  Seeing how I learned this a bit too late, and I'm feeling a bit lazy at the moment, I'm going to keep her name as Patricia.  Many apologies.  Anyway… yeah, she's Dave's mom.  The New Coworkers:  The new staff at WNYX consists of Cecile (co-news director with Lisa and _other_ on-air talent), Janet, and Ryan (reporters).  So far, these characters may seem a bit dry, but all for good reason.  Cecile will play a much bigger role in the future, but as for Janet and Ryan… well, I guess you could say they're 'filler.'  Here me now: do not get connected to them (if that's possible…).  As of yet, I have no future plans for them.  If this angers you… it may change!  Honest!

Also, I'm going to start a little system: every new chapter, I'm going to put a little review of the preceding chapter so no one gets lost.  You know, just to give you little reminders and what not.

Lastly, I'm going to admit it: this story is going to be angsty.  I intended for it to be, and that's why I made it the leading genre.  Apparently, the tidbits of humor I've put into this is enjoyed, and so, I'll _try_ putting more of it in.  Still, keep in mind that this is an overly serious piece of work…  I'm hopeless when it comes to that sort of thing.  So I beg pardon if there isn't enough humor.  I'm trying.  Really.  I can be funnier when I try to be.  lol

So in closing… sorry about the really, really long author's note (which I hope all of you read.  If not… you sadden me), and again, thanks to L (or J), Crystal, Meg, and everyone else who reviews.  

Lose Yourself

Chapter 5

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

Last Chapter:  Jimmy pays a visit to Dave while Lisa backs out.  Cecile learns of some unsettling news in regards of our favorite little news director.  When Lisa finally gets the nerve to visit an unconscious Dave, she meets both Nancy and Mrs. Patricia Nelson, both of which seem a bit perturbed by her presence.  Also, she learns of Dave's father's condition.

* ~ *

            The front door men, who Jimmy remembered to have been employed at WNYX for years, had let him by without a second thought.  The elevator ride to the fourteenth floor seemed hesitant and unfamiliar in comparison to the two story building he had grown accustomed to back in New Hampshire; unfamiliar, but at the same time, like he was coming home.

            Upon the opening of the steel doors, a wave of foreign senses rushed over him.  WNYX was different, to say the least.  Jimmy was almost timid to enter the large office, but of course, wiped that notion away as quickly as it had come.

            "Mr. James," a short, 4'11" to be exact, blonde noticed him, a wide smile between her slightly rounded cheeks.  "Welcome back to WNYX."

            His eyes scanned the office in wonder.  "It really has changed, hasn't it."  It wasn't a question, but an overstatement.  Studying the woman, he squinted his eyes.  "You look a bit young to be working here…"

            The blonde laughed.  "Mr. Nelson said that we had that our 'prepubescent look' attribute in common."  Her smile wavered momentarily, but restored itself in a heartbeat.  "My name's Kristina, I'm Mr. Nelson's secretary."  

            Jimmy laid a hand on her shoulder.  "So you were the one who took such great action.  Might I say that I'm proud to have such… efficient personnel here."

            Blushing, Kristina ducked her head.  "How is he doing, sir?"

            "Too shy to go on over for a visit, are we?" he surmised, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  She merely giggled.  "I'd _like_ to say he's doing better…"

            Kristina's face fell.  "I understand."  Jimmy could smell a crush a mile away.  "Well sir, would you like a tour of the newly-innovated office?"  Nodding, Jimmy followed her, surprised at how much had actually changed.  "Mr. Nelson was set on the idea of renovating and refurbishing."  Kristina quipped, seeing his wondrous expression.  Mr. James noted the change of color on the walls, and could imagine the lingering smell the paint gave off if one stood too close to it.  It was a soft blue, and the ceiling was left white.  The office was also re-carpeted with a short-cut navy spread.  The radio booth now had tinted windows, and the stairs that led to its door were replaced with softer looking steps.  Cubicles lined the walls, and Jimmy's mind wandered to the coronary Dave nearly had when Bill had brought in his own cubicle.

            "I'm happy to see he left the wood up around the office," Jimmy added as they came up to it.  Opening the door, Kristina let the older man in before her, his jaw nearly hitting the floor.  The small windows had been torn out, giving way to a large bay window.  Dave's old desk was replaced by an even larger one, and the famous green couch that had sat in that office for nearly six years was gone.  The only other furnishings in the room were a few plants and a single chair off to the side.  The carpeting had been torn out and beneath was a fine wood floor.  Sadly, no picture frames remained on the walls, nor any other sign of familiarity.

            Sitting down at Dave's giant desk, Jimmy leaned his elbows on its counter, his head bowed.  Kristina pulled over the chair that had hardly been sat in for its worth and settled down in front of the desk, taking off her phone headset.  

            "Mr. James…" she started, playing with her headset in tension.  "Do you think Mr. Nelson will uh… will be able to come back to work?"

            Jimmy offered the tiny woman a sympathetic smile.  "I don't know, dear.  I was hoping he would come to his senses and join us in New Hampshire with the rest of the old WNYX crew."  He paused, eyeing her mischievously.  "You wouldn't want to come with us, would you?"

            Yet another blush rose to Kristina's cheeks as her fingers writhed together in her lap.  "Well, uh, Mr. Nelson needed my assistance before, I do believe.  So I would like to go wherever he decides to go."

            "Ah, I see," Jimmy leaned back in the well-cushioned chair.  "That is very honorable of you."

            Nodding, Kristina excused herself before she could embarrass herself any further.  "Feel free to use the computer, wander around; anything you'd like.  I'll be at my desk right outside this office if you need me."

            Watching the woman leave, Jimmy couldn't help the grin that slipped into his expression.  "You better hurry on up, Dave you ol' coot.  You've got someone waiting for you."

* ~ *

            The little clock at the corner of his computer blinked four PM, and Jimmy James was growing quickly tired of computerized Solitaire, Minesweeper, and Blackjack.  He was also growing tired of the business-like attitude swarming the office, and how no one understood the importance of casualness, such as constantly calling him 'Jimmy' instead of 'sir'.  It drove him nuts, but to some degree, reminded him of Dave.

            Stretching his limbs, listening for any new cracks, Mr. James shut down the computer, turning to face the bay window one last time before he departed.  It _was_ a nice view, and he wondered why no one had come up with the idea of tearing out the wall sooner.  

            "What happened to his father?"  The voice startled him, causing him to bonk his head against the windowpane.  Rubbing the growing goose egg of a lump on his forehead, Jimmy turned to greet a bewildered Lisa.  Not letting him answer, she stepped closer to the desk, her vigor surprising even herself.  "Mrs. Nelson said he lost his father…"

            Closing his eyes, Jimmy dropped his hands behind his back.  "Oh, did I forget to mention that?"  Catching the impertinent glance Lisa cast him, he put up his hands in mock defeat.  "Mr. Nelson passed away not long ago.  I do believe a week or two after we packed it up at WNYX."

            Lisa wet her lips, turning to sit at the chair Kristina had evacuated earlier.  "From what, Jimmy?"

            Circling around, Mr. James took a seat beside her on the desk, clasping his hands in his lap.  "He was a Type 2 diabetic.  A heart attack brought him down."

            "So it's in his bloodline," she finished, resting her chin on her palm.  "…I had a chat with Mrs. Nelson today."

            "You made it down there without me, huh?" Jimmy questioned.  "I was on my way..."

            Lisa chuckled.  "How'd I know you'd stop here first?  Everything's so different."  She paused, meeting eyes with her elder.  "You think he's better off here?  I mean, Mrs. Nelson_ did_ say he wasn't too happy…"

            "Then that answers your question, doesn't it," Jimmy concluded, rising to his feet.  "For all of the phone conversations I had with the boy, not once did I hear of any benefit.  Sure, the ratings were up and WNYX was receiving awards left and right…  But not once did he genuinely say that he was happy."  Extending his hand to her, he waited for her to take it.  When she didn't, he sighed.  "Take your time.  The people are relatively nice, albeit a bit overly formal."

            As Jimmy had done earlier with the new secretary, Lisa watched the man leave, letting out a groan.  Everything she knew had changed, and everything she had created, faltered.  Was there any advantage to the decision she and the others had made, save new territory?  Had it all been necessary?  

            Retracing her tracks, Lisa felt a sudden need to escape what was once a second home to her.  Winding her way through the mob of cubicles, she nearly made it to the elevators when an almost youthful voice called out to her.  

            "Excuse me…" Lisa turned, recognizing the short secretary from earlier.  The thought of whether or not this woman would get along with her predecessor, Beth, crossed her mind, but it was quickly forgotten.  She could tell the younger lady was a nervous sort, for the way she was always fiddling with her hands.  Taking on a kindly, though professional face, Lisa waited for her to continue.

            Faint dimples showing in her cheeks, Kristina smiled.  "You're Lisa Miller, aren't you?" she started, extending her hand.  Taking it, Lisa nodded.

            "That's right."

            "I've been hoping to meet you for quite some time," Kristina confessed, her smile widening.  "Mr. Nelson spoke so highly of you and your work—" 

            "Did he?" the brunette interjected, her heart fluttering just a bit.  After everything, he still…" 

            "Oh yes.  He didn't talk much about the station before its 'transformation,' but when he did," she blushed, "or when we forced it out of him, his words of you were nothing short of amazing."

            Touched, Lisa couldn't find any reply.  Instead, Kristina prolonged, her already quick speaking growing faster.  "I'm only a secretary, but since meeting Mr. Nelson and, now, you, I'm becoming more and more interested in a higher-ranking job.  Don't get me wrong, I've got experience.  The secretary position was the only job left open by the time I got here, is all."

             Resting a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder, Lisa tried easing off Kristina's apprehension.  "Calm down.  I'm sure that if you run your resume by Dave again, you know, point out your skills and past practices, he'll consider a promotion or something."  Allowing the uncomfortable pause to relinquish between the two of them, Lisa folded her arms across her chest and looked at her shoes.  "Kristina…"

            Kristina blinked, weary of the change in attitude.  "Yes?"

            "…Dave didn't talk much about the old station, huh?"  The secretary shook her head.  "How are the relationships between he and the employees?"

            Looking thoughtful, Kristina answered.  "For the short time we had getting to know him, Mr. Nels—Dave seemed very… straight-to-business.  He's very generous, though.  He spoke of a bonus ordeal that included something called 'The Shaft…'" Lisa stifled a giggle, urging Kristina to go on.  "He said that it was custom to award a zero dollar bonus, and he took it himself."  She sighed in short-lived memory.  "He truly is an amazing man… er, boss.  An amazing news director."

            Eyeing her, Lisa felt a pang of electricity run through her body.  "Did you get the chance to spend some time with him?  I mean, outside of work.  You know, to really get to know your boss…" She prayed jealousy wouldn't highlight her remarks.

            Kristina bit her lip, scolding herself of the newly accustomed habit.  "I would quite often ask him to lunch, just so that I knew he wouldn't skip a meal and stay in his office.  He seemed to get thinner ever day…  Anyways, he and I had a few dinner dates…" Yet another blush.  "Well, not really _dates_, but uh… you know…"

            Nodding her head, Lisa cut her off.  "I'm sorry to end our conversation so abruptly, Kristina, but I need to be on my way."  Again, she took the woman's hand and shook it.  "I look forward to talking with you again…"  Kicking herself, she added, "if you'd like to go see Dave, don't be afraid to ask me to accompany you."

            Refraining from the urge to hug the new woman, escaping the unbearable awkwardness of it, Kristina beamed.  "It was a pleasure to meet you.  You're welcome back at WNYX anytime."

            With one last forced smile, Lisa turned and, pressing the down button, entered the elevator.  So Dave had met someone; a cute, perky little blonde – intelligent, a good head on her shoulders, a future ahead of her… rather short…" She banged her head against the metal wall.  "A sixteen-year-old's body.  My God, is she prepubescent or what?"  Now that she thought of it, Kristina reminded her of Dave himself: a child on the outside, but a sage academic on the inside.  She even had a little of Nancy in her… save the defensive attitude towards her… _property_.

            And the awards Jimmy mentioned.  Lisa had kept track on WNYX's progress, and was aware of how well her old news station was coming along with its new route.  Their recognition donned every New York, and the surrounding area, for that matter, radio and entertainment magazine, and had reached their peak of number one New York AM station.

As the numbers descended on the elevator's monitor, her mind drifted to Jimmy's earlier words.  'Not once did he genuinely say that he was happy'… 

He didn't need to say it.  It showed.

* ~ *

Author's Note:  I'm hoping this chapter doesn't mirror the ones that came before it (I know it lacks the humor aspect…)  But if it does, I'm sorry…  Still, there are key points made in this segment, not to mention a new character (ooo, you're gonna hate me for her!)  I had these chapters prewritten so I could be ahead of my posts, and I just took the long uncut copy and chopped it down into chapters.  Anyway, if this chapter seems a bit tedious, and you feel like flaming me about it…  Hold back!  'Cause you're gonna love the next chapter!  Remember, the more reviews (I prefer the nice, helpful ones), the more (quickly) I give you what you want.  Evil must reign!  So if you can find it in your hearts… review!!!  

I promise to get segment six out extremely soon, but while you are waiting, I suggest you check out my friend Dale Dassel's story _Reunion and Departure_, starring our favorite redhead.  You can find it at his website:  www.geocities.com/vickiscape.


	6. 6

Author's Note:  This took longer than expected to put out.  I kept in mind the comments made on this story's behalf, all of which were good but humbling.  Unlike most of my work, this story has been driven by pure emotion, more so than action, and I don't know if it is working out.  I for one enjoy it, because it's a unique sense of writing for me, and I particularly am fond of the sentiments that I didn't know I was able to portray through such vivid (I hope) characters.  I'm thinking I need to dwell more into some of them, but for the most part, I hope it's not just me who is akin to how this is proceeding.

And yes, I've noticed that a lot of the girls show partiality Dave  (wink wink, lol).  Let it be known that I am not writing these situations because Dave is my favorite character (although… he is…).   I believe that in their relationship, Dave seemed to get, oh I don't know… shafted?  (lol).  How I see it, is that through the whole Stuart thing, the Nancy incident earlier in the show wouldn't have happened if Lisa hadn't been constantly dwelling on her past relationship with Stuart (well, not _dwelling_, but you get the point).  And the Foxy thing doesn't count, because Dave and Lisa weren't even seeing each other then.  So, I feel that, in a way, Dave was gypped, and now, it's payback.  *evil laughter.* 

Anywho, enjoy!

Lose Yourself

Chapter 6

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

By five-thirty PM, Jimmy James found himself back at NYC Hospital, sitting beside the man who had caused such turmoil in his once not-quite-normal-but-happy-go-lucky life.  Still, he felt a tad of anger towards the boy for not having noticed the goings-on of his own body early enough to foresee his current state, but then, fate always had to have its way.  The day before Dave's collapse, Jimmy could even tell, blindly-sensed as he was, that the long-time news director needed medical-attention.  But in the past, when he had urged that very point, David had immediately, without a doubt, declined.  Those times were the only times Jimmy had let the boy refuse him.  Not that he felt the need to have such power over him, though it was nice at times, and though Jimmy knew it was for Dave's own well-being, the matter wasn't business-related.  So he backed off.  Dave Nelson was old enough to make his own decisions, and, throughout hoping he make the right one, he'd been sidetracked.  

That thought stuck in his mind more so than any other.  It hurt the worst, as well.  Dave's better judgment had been diverted.  At first, Mr. James was convinced that the reason for it was Dave's father's death.  And though it wasn't at all easy, it turned out to be solely a supporting factor.  The final straw was losing his colleagues, save one, who wasn't much of a consolation in the first place.  No offense to Matthew, of course.  The more reality wound down, the more Jimmy discovered the fault he owned in the situation.  He was well off in old New York.  Why had New Hampshire been so important to him?

"Jimmy, of course you wander in while we're in the restroom."  Mrs. Nelson and Nancy filed in, leaving the door open a crack behind them.  Rising to give the two women hugs, the three gathered around a small table at the foot of Dave's bed.

"Jimmy James doesn't break promises.  I told you I'd be back today."

Grudgingly, Patricia eased into the subject that had plagued her mind since that morning.  "Your entourage, Lisa Miller… We had a little run-in today."

"So I heard, so I heard."  Leaning back in his seat, Jimmy rested a foot up on his knee.

"I was hoping to apologize," Patricia kept on, glancing back at Nancy.  "It's not easy to say I was wrong, but I _did_ say some rather harsh things to the girl."

"It was his decision to stay, Patricia," Jimmy countered softly.  No matter of 'Dave's decision to stay,' Mr. James couldn't bring himself to admit what his earlier realization had brought him to.  "But if I know Lisa, she's on her way back up here as we speak."

"It's awfully boring…"  Beth sat at her desk, feet propped up on its ledge.  Bonking Matthew, who sat on the floor beside her, across the head, she giggled.  "You're supposed to be more entertaining."

Looking up from his Leggos, Matthew scowled.  "I'm making a model of our old building, if you don't mind."  Lifting up the half-erected piece of tiny, colorful bricks, he sighed in admiration.  "I think it would make a great conversation piece."

"Wasn't your stay here intended to be business-related?" Beth threw back, taking her feet down and leaning her arms on Matthew's shoulders.  Stifling a yawn, she continued.  "I mean, Dave sent you up here for… how long has it been anyways?"

"I lost count."

"Right.  Well, that report you're doing on our station…"

"Everything's so dry here," he complained, setting his creation gently on Beth's desk.  "What with Lisa gone, there's no one to remind me what I was doing in the first place…  Or even tell me to get back to work."  A dreamy grin crossed his face.  "She and Dave really do sound alike."

Grimacing at the thought, Beth giggled.  "You know what they say, those who sleep together…"

"Ok, stop that.  I don't need that this early in the morning."

"It's six, junior."

Glancing at his watch, Matthew made an 'I give up' motion with his arms and got to his feet.  Joining him, Beth smoothed out her skirt innocently.  "We _could_… go and snoop around in Lisa's office…"

Spinning on his heel, Matthew's grin grew wicked.  "I'm intrigued… do tell."

"We-ell…" Beth drew out the word, loving the suspense.  "She and Mr. James have been quite secretive lately…  This is how I see it: you need stimulating info to make Dave happy — where better to find it then in Lisa's office?  Just think of all those 'private' folders we can rummage through…"

Passing her without a second glance, Matthew barged into the office.  "Say no more, little one.  I catch your drift."

Doing a little jump for joy at the spark of excitement, Beth skipped in after him, clapping her hands in amusement and shutting the door lightly behind her.  She craved juiciness, and now that she had a comrade, she'd find it in no time.

"So what do you think Lisa and Mr. James are _actually_ doing?" Matthew pondered out loud as he pulled in vain at one of Lisa's desk drawers.  Pushing him aside, Beth pulled a set of keys out of her pocket and unlocked it for him.

"Always keep some spares for such an occasion," she murmured, jingling the key ring in Matthew's face.  "Now hush.  We don't want to get everyone in here."

"Why not?" Joe and Max interrupted, strolling into the office as if on cue.  "We're curious too."

Groaning, the two original spies conceded.  After securely locking the door in order to ward off the last three remaining employees, the group pulled the shades of the office's connecting windows and set to probing the room.  Joe, of course, manned the computer, and was quickly preoccupied with updating its technology.  Max sprawled in one of the nicely cushioned chairs, putting his feet up and folding his hands behind his head.  

"You know, you can do that outside," Beth muttered.  "I thought you were curious."

Max smirked.  "Curious in a lazy sort of way…"

"Oh my God…" Beth's quiet declaration halted all conversation as the other four tuned in.  In her hand was a manila folder she had pulled out of Mr. James' once-locked filing cabinet, which set in the corner of the office behind a plant.  "He obviously didn't want us to find _this_."

"What is it, porno?" Joe questioned sarcastically, turning back to the computer.  Beth shook her head slowly, unable to pry her eyes away from the sheets of paper she held.  Matthew joined the redhead's side and peered over her shoulder.

"Recent medical bills for New York City Hospital?" 

"I don't know how much more I can thank you, Jimmy," Patricia mused, leading the way out of room 722.  Mr. James, followed by Nancy, joined Dave's mother in the hall, continuing on towards the third floor lobby.  Shrugging his shoulders, he pushed his large glasses closer to his eyes.

"Not a problem," he answered, accentuating each word.  "If I'm gonna put my dollars forth, I better keep check on him.  Make sure they're not being stingy with the fluid bags and whatnot."

Chuckling, Mrs. Nelson turned to Nancy.  "And you, dear.  You've been by his side even more than I have.  You're like a daughter to me."  She winked.  "Maybe someday, a daughter-in-law?"

Compelling a smile, Nancy turned the thought over in her mind.  When she and Dave had been a couple, they had been close, if not smitten with each other.  True, the relationship had seemed too innocent to be called committed, but what they had shared before he left Wisconsin had been special to her.  Rekindling what had never reached an actual fire, more of a glowing ember, would be hard, but not impossible.  Needless to say, Nancy was up to the challenge.

"Lisa, so nice of you to join us."  Jimmy's words caused both Nancy and Patricia to jump, though the visitor was expected.  Hugging her short trench coat around her arm, Lisa timidly joined the group, her head low.

"Mrs. Nelson, I'd like to apolo—" 

"Please, Lisa.  Don't," the woman in question interrupted, pulling her closer to her side.  "_I _should apologize.  In this hard time, I was quick to judge and merciless on sparing feelings, for mine own have been insecure.  The spat was tedious, and I hope you'll forgive me for being so spiteful."

Lisa nodded.  The woman sounded so much like her son, that it was a comfort.  "Jimmy—"  

"Stop right there, little lady.  No need, no need."  Breaking the circle, Mr. James opened a path, his hand pointing straight to the room they had just exited.  "I'm sure you'd like to say a few things…"

Any further words were unnecessary, so Lisa did what she was told.  Mere feet away, she could see that night had begun to fall early, shadowing the room uninvitingly.  Willing  herself to suck it up, she cast one last glance towards the kids in the hall,

**Sorry, I just couldn't help myself.**

and stepped inside for only the second time.

The vases of flowers were welcoming, though melancholic, adding to the drear of the room.  Trying to remain nonchalant, though her pulse raced, Lisa picked a random card amidst the flora decorations.  She read, 'Our hearts are with you.'  Another one recited, 'Wake up Sleepy Jean.'  She laughed; the card was obviously from Jimmy James.

It grew harder for her to avoid his motionless form, so she conceded and sat beside him, her gaze trained downward.  The sounds of the respirator and his even, mechanically breathing filled the room, creating a rhythm with his heart monitor.  Breaking the silence, she freed a long-held-back cry, her eyes finally meeting his closed ones.  Lisa never expected how heartrending it would end up being when she ultimately looked at him.  Sure, she had seen him when she encountered Nancy yesterday for the first time in years, but that's all she had done.  She had seen him.  She hadn't _looked_ at him.  And even then, she had been several feet away.  Now, she was close enough to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand.

His features were almost sunken, and the more Lisa studied him, the paler he appeared.  Like she had noticed the other day, he had lost a significant amount of weight, and was frailer than he had been in his first days at WNYX.  Uncertainly, she took his hand in hers, her fingers tracing the IV taped to his wrist.  He had almost a blue-ish undertone to his skin; his blood had grown thin.

Choking back any remaining sobs, she spoke to him, her voice near a whisper.  "I read somewhere that, um, that if you talk to someone in… in a coma… there is a chance they can hear you; that there is only a thin veil of consciousness amid deep sleep."  With her free hand, Lisa scrubbed at the tears that cascaded down her already damp cheeks.  "I'm going to go out on a limb here and believe them."  She laughed.  "You know that that's not like me…  

"As a matter of fact, I've changed a lot in these past few months, Dave.  Everyone's been saying that I am starting to sound like you.  To quote Beth, I'm your 'Minime.'"  Lisa could just about hear the sarcastic comment he would have added to that statement.  Standing, she confessed to herself: at that point, she'd love to hear him say "Get back to work."

"Alright, I'll get to the point," she continued, answering her own thoughts.  Bending over him, she drew her face close to his masked one, planting a lingering kiss on his forehead.  "If this even reaches you…  Come back to us, Dave.  You're needed here by so many people: your mother, Jimmy, your colleagues: new and old; I'll even admit to Nancy."  She paused, straightening.  "And I need you, too.  I was angry when you didn't follow us to New Hampshire, and I had thought that I didn't need you.  You know how hard it is for me to admit when I'm wrong."  Laying another kiss on his hand, she smiled over her tears.  "I've never been more wrong in my life…"

Gently, she placed his hand onto his chest, letting her own linger atop his before dragging herself away.  The moon had, at last, slipped into the sky, and its light shed itself into the room, radiating across his form dramatically.  For some reason, to Lisa, nature's nightlight seemed forgiving.

"Until you wake," she whispered, her hand wiping away the rest of her tears.  She wanted to return composed; to not let her fragility show to the others.  If they could be strong, so could Lisa.

Clutching the door handle, she pushed it open, letting the artificial light flow into the room.  Halting her pace, the faint sound of sheets rustling, quickened breathing, and the sudden increase of the heart monitor's beeping came from behind her, and, without a glance back, Lisa ran into the hall, screaming for assistance. 


	7. 7

Author's Note:  Oh my dear Gods… do you hate me?  I pray I haven't lost any of my audience, but I've got my reasons.  My colorguard was eligible for state finals, and we've spent every waking moment practicing.  It wasn't in vain, though: we placed ninth in the state of Michigan for Flight 1.  I'm proud… but a bit forlorn, because I had lost my commitment to my writing.  But never fear, for I am here, alive and well and updating.  I offer cookies in apologies… I promise they are not drugged.  :D

I'd like to send out a heartfelt thank you to those who had not lost faith in me.  For example, _thedtree_ (maya_thewillowtree@hotmail.com), _Carrie_, and, once again, _Meg_, as well as others, all reviewed (even though I hadn't updated in awhile), and motivated me (through heartfelt – and sometimes humorous – pleading and well-wishes) to finally sit down and perfect this chapter.  So now, it is ready and willing to be posted… so I dedicate this to all of you who kept their faith in me and stuck with me through my writer's block (actually… more like a writer's cramp, 'cause… hm…)

Again, visit my site at http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986/

I've got this story posted there, too, and there, I'll be posting special tidbits in relation to this story (I'm not sure what, yet…  Maybe like foreshadowing for upcoming chapters, so you, the reader, can give your own opinions on how it should go.)

Lose Yourself

Chapter 6

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

Last Chapter:  The New Hampshire crew, though naughty snooping (tsk tsk) finally figure out the truth behind Lisa and Jimmy's 'trip.'  Mrs. Nelson and Lisa reconcile, and during her visit at Dave's bedside, a revelation happens, and Dave returns to the conscious world.  Lastly, I made a bad pun…  heh heh, Kids in the Hall… *tear tear*  Yeah, so _I_ thought it was funny!

* ~ *

"She's been in there for quite a while, hasn't she," Nancy muttered to herself, her arms crossed defensively against her chest.  Sure, she was pouting and acting childish, but one could never be too careful, right?  At least, she admitted to herself, she wasn't making death threats.  She was beyond that now.  All she wanted was happiness.  Thank goodness Jimmy was prone to selective hearing, and Mrs. Nelson was a compulsive chatter, at least when it came to Mr. James, so they had not heard her.  Nancy couldn't help glancing impatiently back and forth between the two elders and Dave's door, monotonously counting the minutes that passed.

At long last, or what could have been only ten minutes, she could see Lisa through the small window of the door, her head bowed against its frame.  "What, did she forget how to open a door?" Nancy thought to herself derisively.  She immediately regretted her opinions when she saw the woman wiping at her cheeks; clearly she had been crying.  Lisa didn't seem like a crier, or an emotional person at all, but instead, like when Nancy had brought her a plain donut to 'describe their personalities' on her first visit to WNYX, an impassive, characterless person.  And that was only the first impression.  Lisa had turned out to be a liar, having bent the truth about her relationship with Dave Nelson, and a neurotic.  True, she had to blame herself for that part, but still.  She also reminded Nancy of a nymphomaniac, but never would she say this to her face.  Seeing that woman cry made Nancy's ill feelings melt away, and she no longer saw her as competition.  Now, she was a partner in grief.   

When Lisa finally pushed the door open, Nancy broke from the group to meet her, hoping to get a word of comfort in.  She stopped abruptly when Lisa did, confused by the look of shock that suddenly washed over Lisa's features.  The quietness broke by her shouts for help, and Nancy's face drained of blood.  What could have gone wrong in a mere ten minutes?  Did Dave's heart monitor go still?  Had he stopped breathing?

Within seconds, two male nurses and one doctor were at Lisa's side, and with a brief exchange of words that Nancy couldn't make out, they hurried into room 722, leaving Lisa to clutch her mouth in stagger.

The feeling rushing to her legs once more, Nancy ran to the room, Lisa immediately after her.  Their eyes were unbelieving.  It took both nurses to hold Dave back, despite his supposed weakness, as the doctor tried to stabilize his breathing.  Dave had pulled out every tube that had been connected to him, and was now clutching at the IV's, at the same time trying to figure out where the hell he was.

"He's confused doctor," one nurse called out.  "Amnesia?"

The doctor answered.  "No, it's typical for a coma-induced patient to be confused of his whereabouts.  Administer a slight sedative."  Once the needle had entered his arm, which was difficult against his writhing, Dave calmed, his eyes blanking and his body going limp.

Despite Lisa's constraining hands on her shoulders, Nancy shot forward, intending to strangle either of the nurses.  "Why the hell did you do that?  He was awake, God-dammit!  He was awake!"  Patricia laced her arms around the girl's body and, hoping to ease her abrupt hysteria, led her out of the room.  Jimmy guided Lisa, who had simply watched on in stun and weariness, after them.  The two girls, one choking on her own tears and the other one detached, stood beside each other, the elders looking on in worry.

"My son," Patricia spoke to no one in particular, her face raised to the ceiling in prayer.

Two more hours passed before the doctor who had restrained Dave came to talk to the four.  He held no clipboard, nor had an encouraging expression on his face.

Standing, Patricia pulled Jimmy alongside her.  "Doctor…?"

"Doctor Cohen, ma'am."  He answered, bowing his head momentarily in respect.  "No need to worry, your son is stable and responsive; I believe the sedative we applied has just about worn off."  Noticing Mrs. Nelson's questioning look, he explained.  "We had to administer the mild tranquilizer so we could treat him and put his IV's back in, as well for his own safety.  He is breathing on his own, so he does not need the respirator for the time being."

"Tell me the bad news, doctor," Patricia insisted, her voice unwavering.  Nodding, he continued.

"Your son is not quite at an advanced state of Type 1 diabetes, but he is borderline.  In the advanced state, he is more susceptible when it comes to illness, and the symptoms are more profound.  At that state, it is difficult to treat the symptoms, but not impossible."

"What are you telling me?" her eyes were hard, and no tears dared to show.  

"He is prone to losing his eyesight.  His degree of sight has lowered a bit, but it is nothing drastic as of yet.  There are surgeries to remedy this problem before it increases.  Also, he may have trouble walking; it's normal for diabetics to be easily weakened or tired, and occasionally he may get severe pain or lose feeling in his legs."

Taking in the information, Jimmy was amazed at how fearless Patricia seemed upon hearing the extent.  Still, she persisted.  "Earlier you spoke of confusion…?"

"Yes," Cohen replied.  "Confusion is associated with the disease.  Also, when coming out of a coma, there is a risk the patient may face amnesia or slight memory loss, let alone mild confusion."  He patted her shoulder.  "No need to worry over that.  Your son shows no sign of any extent to memory loss.  Just let him adapt to his surroundings and whatnot; give him time to focus when speaking with him.  Don't be surprised if he forgets a few names once in a while."

All the while, Lisa stared straight ahead in her seat, her mentality reeling from the statistics the doctor was spewing.  She didn't even notice when Patricia was allowed to enter Dave's room, or when Jimmy retook his seat beside her.  She didn't feel his arm rest across the back of her seat and she didn't hear his reassuring words.  All she saw was the blindingly white wall in front of her, and all she heard was the piercing buzz in her ear.  And what she felt was… someone pinching her.

Jumping, she clutched her arm, her eyes locking on Nancy who sat on the other side of her.  Her face wasn't apologetic, but neither was it amused.  Her tears having dried and subsided, she simply placed her hand on top of Lisa's and bowed her head.   

The remaining three lost track of time after the first few minutes Patricia was gone.  She had been warned that her son wouldn't be at a full 100 percent… that he may not be 'himself.'  She didn't care, of course, and the nurse had ushered her into the room that had for so long been a crypt.

Nancy had fallen asleep, her head hanging forward and her arms crossed; she would feel _that _in the morning.  Having excused himself to the bathroom, Lisa could only suspect that Jimmy had either lost his way, or was now flirting with a nurse.  She briefly wondered if his quest for a potential wife would ever end… and how being so close to Dave's widowed mother was affecting him.  He had never bothered to hide that he had a crush for the woman, and now, in the hard times she was facing, one couldn't ask for a better time to draw in even closer… though it seemed to be a heartless attempt.  Jimmy wasn't like that…

Lisa's staring contest with the wall was becoming rather tiresome, and her head was pounding with the same beat as her heart.  For quite some time now, she had been a victim to incredible headaches, and of her abundant supply of pain relievers, none worked.  Pressing on her eyeballs, she leaned back in her chair, groaning at the pressure against her skull.

Quick footsteps echoed in the halls, where Patricia was making her way back to the lobby.  Eyeing her, Lisa stood to meet her, questioning the defeated look Mrs. Nelson held on her face.  She stepped aside to offer Patricia her seat, but she shook her head shortly, grabbing her coat that hung on the back of one of the chairs.  Understanding, Lisa's eyebrows knitted together.

"They said that he wouldn't be himself…"

"_Yet_…" Patricia interrupted shortly.  "He's not himself _yet._"  Slipping on her jacket, she embraced the younger woman, giving her thanks before continuing her rapid pace towards the elevator.  Glancing down, Lisa ran her fingertips along her shoulder, wiping away the tears Patricia had shed.

Giving one last look towards Nancy, still quietly snoring, Lisa continued the way Patricia had came, suddenly fearing the room she had only visited a few times.  The heavy feeling she felt on her first trip down the hall returned to her feet; anchors tied to her ankles.  Yet she willed herself onward, her heart rate speeding up to that of a cat's, beating as though it would explode out of her chest.

The door was left open about an inch, and she could see a dim light spilling out of the shadows within the room.  Pushing the door open the rest of the way, she peeked inside before entering, seeing that the light came from the overhead lamp above Dave's bed.  Reluctantly, Lisa shut the door behind her, slowly lifting her eyes to rest on Dave's prone form.  She knew he was awake, yet his eyes were still shut, as though it was too much of an effort for him to open them, or he wished to return to the peace of the lifeless comatose dimension.  She briefly wondered what it was like to be in a coma, and if her expectations of his hearing her words from earlier were true.

"Dave…" It seemed hard to form words.  He turned his head towards the sound, but his eyes remained closed.  This little bit of acknowledgment was enough to draw Lisa to his side.

"How are y--…." Her language escaped her at the sight.  Dave's arms were tightly bound with leather bindings, often used when mentally ill patients were treated in the hospital, to the bed's support railings.  His wrists were red and peeling from his obvious struggle, and the rough rawhide was damp with crimson blood.  From lack of circulation, his hands were white and limp, curled into loose fists.

"I can't believe they did this to you," Lisa exclaimed, immediately undoing the confines.  She understood the need to restrain him at his first waking, but in his present condition, Dave couldn't have possibly been strong enough to resist three men, and a sedative on top of that.  But if it had been needed, was it necessary to do it so tightly?  What baffled her most, though, was that his mother hadn't had the common sense to untie her son during her visit.

Tossing aside the buckles, Lisa turned back to Dave.  "Why didn't your mother do anything about this, Dave?"

His face unemotional, Dave finally forced his eyes open.  Awkwardly, he stared for a long moment at Lisa, as if she were a stranger.  "My mother…?"

Lisa was taken aback by the frailness of his voice.  "The woman who was with you before me."

As if the blatancy had suddenly hit him, Dave frowned, nodding his head.  "That's right, that's right…"  He resumed staring at her, his eyes straining in confusion.  Pain welled in Lisa's stomach, the doctor's words rushing into her mind.  It was normal for him to be a bit confused in his condition, but the doctor _had_ said that Dave didn't have any memory loss.  So why was it so hard for him?

"Come on Dave, you know me…" she murmured, reaching out to touch his arm.  He flinched as she accidentally grazed his wrist's open wound, and she pulled her hand back abruptly, wringing her fingers together in her lap.  A pleading look crossed her expression as she gazed into his eyes, searching for some familiarity.  The brilliant blue they had once been had dimmed, not enough to startle her, but enough to show the pain Dave had gone through.  They seemed distant, but the longer she stared, the more she recognized; the more Dave returned.

"It's Lisa, Dave," she continued, her voice rising a bit in pleading frustration.  A slight frown marring his features, Dave said nothing.  Again, Lisa clutched his forearm, minding not to touch the rawness of his wrists.  "Say it's Lisa, Dave.  Say it's Lisa…"

"It's Lisa…" Dave answered, his own voice strengthening.  "Lisa…"

Seeing in his eyes that he meant it, that he recognized her, Lisa released a long-held, shaken breath and wrapped her arms around the man's neck.  She choked back a relieved sob when she felt his hands on her back, returning her hug.  "Thank God you're back, Dave…"

* ~ *

Author's Note:  Ooooooooooooh!  That even made _me _cry, and that's just dumb.  Oh!  And I just got a degu, too.  It's a rodent, and my friend thinks it's kind of like a chinchilla, but who knows.  I named it Shmoo, like "The Taming of the Shmoo."  (Ha ha, I know, another bad pun.  My apologies to Sir Shakespeare).  So if anyone has any advice on how to care for it, go ahead and shoot.

Oh yeah, and WOOOOOO!  I've got a DATE!  I'm so happy…  We're gonna go see "The Ring."  I'm scurred.  Ha ha.


	8. 8

This is my Thanksgiving present to all of you.  Happy Turkey day… I'm just gonna go warm up my can of chicken noodle…. Ya know what I just realized?  Eminem's got a song called "Lose Yourself."  This saddens me, but I promise to be civil.  Hey!  I kinda live near 8 Mile!  

I got this great idea from another author to help boost ratings (ha ha, I sound like a TV person thingamajiggy... humor me.)  She says to reply to reviews, and make friends.  I gave her a blank stare, and she told me to be more hospitable.  I kicked her in the shin.  Besides, it's a great way to answer questions, cure confusion, and so on.

**Great chapter. It seemed a bit similar to chapter 6, but at least we're moving along, eh? And the whole Nancy jealousy description was good. Nice touch. It's a compelling read, with all that disease stuff and all. Let's hope we see chpt 8 before New Year's.** -- I don't know who wrote this, but I'll reply anyway.  Um...  that kinda makes me sad, how you say chapter 7 sounds like the last.  You sound like J (or L. -- let's not get started on that initial thing again) who always said the same thing... hey, waitaminute... are YOU J (or L)?  Well hel-friggin-lo!  :D  'K, I'll cut the crap....  Can you give me a bit more insight of what I keep repeating? 

**Meg **- Yeah!  I'm back... somewhat.  I'm never really quite all there... lol.  To explain about Dave's bindings, let's just say I drew from personal experiences.  But ya know... now I kinda wish I had made Dave attack Lisa.  That would've been funny.  :D  And you never know what's gonna happen with Nancy.  I promise a happy ending with her (I kinda liked her, too.  She seemed too sweet to be a lunatic.  lol)

**Carrie** - I should be thanking you guys for reviewing.  I almost lost hope...  I thought I had lost my entire audience, and then my motivation was on death row.  But even if I received reviews that told me I sucked, I'd still finish my story and post, just to make them angry at my false hope.  Ha.  And oh, the humor.  I like the humor... I just can't always find a place for it.  I tend to write when I'm angry, and then, it's all depressing crap for crap.  But I'll try my darndest.

**Crystal **- In my humble opinion, Shmoo is the best name you could give a pet.  My mom doesn't seem to accept it, though.  She keeps trying to change her name to Smootchie, or something like that.  Poor thing's getting confused.  Anywho, I'm glad I made you cry, kinda sorta.  lol! :D

**thedtree **- It was saaaaaaad, wasn't it?  I like sad stuff...  I don't know why.  Maybe 'cause I have a sad, sad life.  Waitaminute... damn!  Anywho, I'm glad I know I'll still have one reader, and I don't know about a happy ending...  They're just so... happy.  _  But if you can keep a secret, it'll probably be happy... oh frigg...  Also, thanks for the congrats, and I must warn you, the cookie... let's just say, I doubt it'll be cookie-like.

**dragon-reborn5** - You are one of my most faithful readers... although you don't say much besides "pleeeeeeease write more soon" and etc.  Actually, there is no etc.  Well yeah, don't be afraid to say more, and thanks for sticking with me!

Lose Yourself

Chapter 6

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

**Last Chapter:**  Having finally risen from his coma, Dave is… _kinda_ greeting the world with not-so open arms…  Yet again, even more sadness ensues.

* ~ *

It was late, and the office was evacuated, save one.  He sat at his desk, his only lamp illuminating the entire workplace.  His shoulders were hunched over, his forehead resting in his palm tiredly.  In his other hand was his pen, and before him were his notes, which he prided over.  It was rare for him to actually dig into an assignment, but this one he had been excited over.  This one had had meaning to him, but now, so many things had changed, and so many surprises had occurred. 

"Come on Matthew, it's not so hard," he scolded himself, flipping through his legal pad.  In all actuality, this task was the most difficult one he had ever faced.  The idea he had been given didn't seem worthy any more, but Matthew's new plan could easily backfire.  People's feelings were at stake, and there were assumptions he would be making that could split the group even further apart.  But it seemed so right.

"Matthew?"  Cecile's voice caused Matthew to jump, his chair almost flipping backwards with the motion.  Swiveling his seat to face his coworker, Matthew smiled innocently.  

"What are you doing here so late?"  Cecile continued, setting her jacket and purse down on his desk.  

Tensely, he tapped his pen at his notepad, covering it with his hand to block her view.  "Just some work… You know me: work, work, work…"

Laughing, Cecile shook her head.  "From what little I _do_ know of you, I'd think you were up to something."

Innocently, Matthew raised his hands.  "It's nothing, I swear." 

Seeing an opening, Cecile snatched the legal pad from his desk, giggling as she trotted a few feet away from Matthew's flinging arms.  "Looks like you've made some changes to your report assignment, huh?" 

"No, no, no…" Matthew tried to reassure her, lashing out to retrieve his notes.  Each time, Cecile twirled away, her eyes scanning the papers.  Soon, she stopped, as did Matthew, in confusion.  Her playful expression fell, and she met the man's gaze.

"So you know about this?" Cecile mumbled, her face alternately looking at him and the notepad.

Eyeing her, Matthew placed his hands on his hips.  "How do _you_ know about this?"

"I have my ways," she returned, handing him back his notes.  "Besides, Dave and I have a… _history_ together."

"Oh, I failed history class…" Matthew dropped his inquiring demeanor and lowered his head in shame.

Sighing, Cecile pushed her thin-framed glasses to the top of her head.  "Dave and I used to work together in Wisconsin.  We worked at Green Bay University's news station: a reference radio station for the college students that announced the school's updates and information."  She chuckled.  "He and I had the biggest rivalry going.  We both served as co-anchors on-air, and we would always compete for the same promotions and whatnot.  I admit, I often took things too far, and he often got the best of me, but I _did_ beat him in _something_…"

Matthew grinned.  "History?"

Looking up, Cecile quickly shook her head as Matthew mouthed a 'what?'  "Oh, nothing.  Anyways, I feel awful for the enmity we constantly shared.  I never meant for it to be so serious, and he never realized that I thought of him as a friend."

Matthew's eyes glistened, and his voice was choked.  "Oh, that's so beautiful…"

Shrugging, Cecile giggled again.  Pulling her glasses back over her eyes, she smiled slightly.  "Do you think I could help you with your report?  I'd like to do something for Dave, just this once."

His grin matching hers, Matthew nodded.  "That'd be great."

* ~ *

The next morning came all too soon, and the chore of packing was the last thing Jimmy wanted to do.  They were setting out to New Hampshire that afternoon, and though his cabin would be a welcome sight, New York would still be tugging at his heartstrings.  Of all his vacation homes, his stay in New York had always been his favorite, even after he sold his residence.  The change of scenery that New Hampshire offered was nice for the first few months, but the cows had become mundane, and the fresh, country scent and scenery had become dull.  It didn't compare to the hustle and bustle of the big city, but it would have to, for the sake of his station.

The phone rang, stealing Jimmy's attention away from his packing.  Picking up the receiver, he greeted the hotel lobby clerk and waited for her to patch the call through.

"Jimmy James speaking, what can I do you for?"

"Mr. James," Beth's voice was hushed and agitated.  "It's Beth."

Jimmy chuckled.  "Well hi there sweetie, how's things?"  At the silence, Jimmy let out a defeated sigh.  "Okay, how'd you find me?"

"Naturally, I just phoned the most expensive hotel in New York… Nearest to the hospital…"  The last line Jimmy almost didn't catch.

"You know, don't you," he surmised, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.  He could almost see Beth nod in shame.

"We, uh, _accidentally_ came across a hospital bill…"

"There's no need to feel bad," Jimmy interrupted.  "I shouldn't have kept this from you all…"  Glancing at the caller ID set in the phone, he chuckled.  "How's your stay at my cabin?"

Beth's voice brightened.  "Matthew was afraid to be alone, so he had Joe, Max and me come down with him.  It's so gorgeous, Mr. James."

"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy answered with pride, losing himself in the fulsome memory.  "It sure is, little lady.  It sure is."

Another awkward silence fell before Beth cleared her throat and continued.  "So how is he?"

"Well, he's doing a-OK," he replied.  "I'm bringing him home."

Beth squealed.  "You're bringing him to New Hampshire, against his will?  As Bill would have put it… _delicious…_"

"I do have my intentions," Jimmy countered.  "There's a wonderful diabetic therapist nearby the station."  He emphasized the word station.  "You know, nice and close in case he'd like to check it out, see the perks, etc."  

"You're a sly one, Mr. Grinch," Beth teased, reticently  

"I sure am."

* ~ *

Lisa could remember the first time she rode in Mr. James' helicopter.  It was exhilarating, unlike a plane ride or anything else.  The thought of how thin the vehicle's walls actually were made her uptight, but that was what fueled the thrill.

Though the view out the window was nice, Lisa turned away from it to take sight of the man sitting beside her, quiet and almost completely unresponsive.  Dave didn't seem to be having as good a time as she was.  Their departure had taken more time than expected, on account of the hospital's paranoia that matched Dave's own.  He was held back for some remaining tests, then, three days after his awakening, he was released, and, without another word, was packed up and threw into the present helicopter situation.

Upon his release, Lisa recalled word for word the conversation he, Jimmy and she had had, and it hadn't been a calm one.  Jimmy had announced to him, in agreement with his mother, that the best place for him was in New Hampshire.  Mrs. Nelson was needed back in Wisconsin, though she promised to join them in New Hampshire ASAP, and as a parting wish, she had made it clear that she did not want her son back at work so soon.  Understandably, Dave complied, but on hearing of the destination in mind, he had not been so ready to agree.  Jimmy put in his own two cents, making a point of the therapy center and how he had taken no for an answer from Dave only once.  He wasn't about to take it again.

So, within the three days of arguments and persuasion, the decision had become final.  Against Dave's will, or what he had thought to be his own will, they were on their way to New Hampshire.  Now, he stared ahead, his eyes half shut and his breathing steady.  At first glance, Lisa thought he was sleeping, but she knew better.  He was in a mood; it wasn't self-pity; he was beyond that.  His mood seemed more oriented towards reluctance and nervousness, which did not bode well with her.  It was almost as if his fears were coming true, and the minority was taking him down with them.

* ~ *

"Matthew, get your cats away from me, for the last time."  Joe's anger was on the edge, and a small vein was pulsing in his forehead.  The cats in question stood before him, staring at him like he was a can of tuna.  Ever since he and the others had come to the cabin for Matthew's sake, not to mention the free food and stay in the rustic mansion, the cats had taken a liking to him, and had 'chosen' him, as Matthew put it.

"Oh, they just like you, Joe.  No big whoop."  Joe held down the urge to use one of the cats as a football when suddenly, what sounded like little pellets began panging against the windows.

"What the…?  Hail?"  Matthew skipped over to the window and peered outside, his eyes going wide.  Jumping up and down, he ran out of the den and to the front door, flinging it open.  A gust of wind startled him, pushing Matthew back a few steps before he regained his composure.  "Beth, Joe, Max, come on!  They're here!"  Just as soon as the words escaped his mouth, the three of them were behind him and outside, shielding their eyes as Jimmy's helicopter hovered above them.  Swinging downward, the propellers kept running as it touched surface in Jimmy's massive front yard, doubling as his helicopter's landing pad.  The small door pushed open, and out came Lisa, who immediately ran over to them.

"Hey you guys," she shouted over the noise.  "Dave's back."  The group again watched as Jimmy James and Dave emerged from the helicopter's side door, Jimmy waving at the pilot before slamming it shut.  They ducked their heads as the vehicle rose slightly off the ground.

Looking over at Joe, Lisa couldn't dismiss the smile he wore.  It seemed… knowing.  "You knew about this, didn't you."  It wasn't a question.

"We all did," he shouted back, gesturing to Dave in the distance.  "Besides, who do you think got Dave to wear that shirt?"  Lisa frowned, looking in the direction of the two men.  Sure enough, Dave was wearing the "I Kicked Joe's Ass" t-shirt Joe had given him when Foxy, an intern, had chosen Dave over him.  Laughing, she held back the tears, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Joe's were as watery as hers. 

* ~ *

**Author's Note:**  Yeah, sorry for the really long author's note at the top, but you might wanna get used to it.  Also, if you are wondering why I didn't address Nancy in this chapter, do not fret your buns off, it's coming.  And so is further insight with Jimmy and Patricia.  Everything will be explained in "all deliberate speed." ß Anyone know where that quote came from?  History lesson!  (ha, bad pun in relation to story… I crack me up.)

Website!  Go!  Now!  http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986/


	9. 9

**Author's Note:  **Did I entitle the last chapter, Chapter 6?  What is wrong with me?  O_o  I'm afraid that this is kind of a short chapter… but that means I can spit out the next chapter quicker!  Hopefully in only a few days' time (I know, you must all be wetting your pants right now.  "What?  She's gonna update really soon?  Oh my friggin' Lord!"  I make that a promise to you all.  

**Little Red** – Holy crap for crap, I got a new reviewer!  I'm really glad you're enjoying the story.  It's good to know that my story's worth being "screwed for work."  lol.  I agree – Lisa payback is so fulfilling to write about, I'd suggest it to everyone.  I love her character, though.  If her and Dave's roles were reversed, I'd have wanted payback on his behalf just as much… but then, I adore Dave, so ya never know.  Ha ha!  I am truly humbled by all of your compliments, and I hope you continue to read, review, and enjoy what I'm writing.  Rock on.****

**thedtree – **All I can say is, kudos back!  After rereading it, I realized that though chapter 8 finally got the story moving, it sacrificed the emotion I had worked into the rest of the chapters (which I think makes a big difference.)  But I agree – I loved putting more emotion into Joe's character.  He doesn't seem to be given much in most fanfictions.  I always loved his character, so I thought, what the hey, let's do something nice with him in my story.  Also, believe it or not, I am really happy you dislike Cecile.  That means I'm doing my job right.  lol.  Bad vibes call for a compelling read.  :D  And someday, I will get you that untainted cookie.

**dragon-reborn5** **–** Thanks for reviewing again (and you put more into your review this time!  Make me so proud!)  Yes, I think it was about time for Dave to get his butt back with his loved ones.

**Carrie – **Like I said to **thedtree**, I agree about the lack of emotion in chapter 8.  The chapter was deprived (somewhat, but not entirely) of the emotional content I had worked so hard to keep in all of the other chapters in order to get the story moving.  But it was all for good – I was saving the yummy, tender stuff for later (kinda making me hungry…).  'Cause you know what they say, keep your audience waiting, and they'll come back, yearning for more…  But then, I take so long to update, I fear I'm probably losing most of my audience.  I promise, from now, forth, to update promptly so I do not make people mad at me.  lol.  Thanks for the "periodic comment."  And as for Dave's stay in the hospital being only three days – I was only kept for three days, so I figured, why not draw from experience.  O_o 

**L (or J) – **Still not sure exactly who you are, or if the review I got was from you, but hey, I'll answer it anyway.  I am very relieved to say that chapter 8 was free of repetition, though I have to admit that I never realized that I was repeating the same chapter-line basically over and over again until you pointed it out.  For that, I thank you.  Though I'm still a bit confused, I'll keep working on it.  :D  It was very constructive.  I'm afraid to say, though, that from the reviews I received, I think you were the only person who actually enjoyed the faster pace of this chapter, while others missed all the emotion.  So I'm all messed up, kinda perplexed about whether to continue with the faster pace or to return to the old, emotionally-driven tempo.  I guess we'll see what happens, huh?  lol.  But ya know, I felt like I kinda had to explain the t-shirt scene a bit more, because I didn't want it to go over the heads of those who hadn't seen that episode or something.  But then, I usually tend to over-explain myself… like with this review-reply I'm giving you.  So I'll stop now.  ^_^

**Meg – **Like I said to **Carrie**, I was only kept for three days, so like the old saying goes, "write what you know."  lol.  I was hoping to solve the emotional aspects chapter 8 was missing in the upcoming chapters, which seemed like a better time to do so.  Because if you think about it, when you just come out of life-or-death situation, do you really wanna be swarmed by people/emotions?  I'd rather lock myself in my room… probably cry a bit… steal my brother's supply of chocolate and scarf it down… maybe play some video games…  lol, I'm rambling again.  More Nancy to come!  Woo!  Anywho, all of things you missed will soon be solved.  Sorry to disappoint you with the last chappie, I'll try harder.  :D 

**Crystal – **Comedy is refreshing, isn't it?  Thanks – I needed some encouragement for the last chapter.  I've been getting mixed reviews on it: some hated it and missed the emotion; some loved it with its quicker pace.  It's hard to please everyone, but I'm trying, ya know?  Thanks a lot for the review; it means a lot.

**Savannah – **Where've you been, girlie?  I haven't talked to you in quite a while.  How's things?  Aw, you're too nice – I'm just trying to keep this piece "me-esque", ya know?  Oh no, you got to my website?  lol.  I reaaaally need a new layout.  But entertaining, no?  :D  

Lose Yourself

Chapter 9

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

**Last Chapter:  **Matthew's project is well underway, but with a little help.  Jimmy and Lisa have been 'found out' by the New Hampshire crew, and that's all well and good, because Dave's coming 'home' to New Hampshire!  But why is he so silent?  And yes, Joe is showing his softer, cushier side.  Aww.

**What to expect in the next chapter: ** Much needed Nancy-ness!  Closure?  Who knows!  I know I don't!  And where's Patricia?  I miss her…

*  ~ *

The den was empty when Jimmy finally settled in his favorite chair.  The fireplace was lit, casting a restful glow across the room.  It felt good to be back amidst a comfortable setting, calming his shot nerves.  No, he wasn't worried or anything.  Not since three days ago, when he would have been nerveless, not knowing what the next day would bring.  He thanked the Gods, for the next day brought relief… Though it pained him to know that the very man that wrought furor upon so many wasn't happy.

Since the moment the three of them departed for New Hampshire, Dave hadn't said a word, save for the brief greetings he offered to those who awaited them at Jimmy's cabin.  He was tired; he didn't have to hide it; and so, he retired to the room that had been set up for him, leaving the rest to deal with their confused selves.

Not long after, embarrassed by the sniffling weakness he was showing, Joe set early to his room.  Matthew, ever the curious, had been ready to run up to 'check things out,' but was instead sent to his room to deal with his hell-born cats.  In order to ease her mind, Lisa volunteered to make dinner, and so forth busied herself in the kitchen.

Swirling the burgundy wine in his glass, Mr. James took a sip, grateful for the soothing liquid.  "And that leaves Beth…" Jimmy told himself, knowing that she was standing behind his chair.  He heard her sigh then come into sight, taking a seat on the couch perpendicular to him.  Curling her feet beneath her and resting her chin in her palms, she stared at Jimmy uncomfortably.  Throughout all of the melancholy, she didn't even have a single piece of gum on her.

"He's so different, Mr. James…" she started, shaking her head.  "I mean, he hasn't said more than two words to everyone, but I can tell, you know?"

Jimmy chuckled.  "Jetlag, sweetie."

Frowning, Beth turned the thought over in her mind.  "But you came down here in a helicopter… and it was such a short flight…"

"Okay, okay," Jimmy retaliated, raising his hand in mock surrender.  Pausing a beat, he looked intently at his flute of wine.  "Tell me, have you ever lost something that you held very dear to your heart?"

Taking on a thoughtful expression, Beth bit her lip.  "I did lose this pair of $90 shoes.  Oh, they were my favorite; they had these strappy thingies—" 

"Well that's just dandy," Jimmy interrupted.  "Did you ever find them?"

"Hmm… it turned out that my mom accidentally used them as—" 

"That's beside the point," he continued, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  "Amidst all the events that's taken place in the past few months, Dave has had it quite hard.  He lost so many things.  One, he lost his father…"

Beth gasped.  "Oh my God…"

Jimmy nodded.  "Uh huh.  Heart attack due to Type 1 Diabetes.  Two, he lost us when we moved here.  You can see that that didn't help much at all, did it."  He sighed, taking another swig of his drink.  "Dave knew full well that he wasn't in tip-top shape.  He's not a dumb man, but he is a stubborn one.  But that wouldn't get him down.  Nothing would bring him down; he tried to make the best of the situations, but in reality, all of the awards and successes in the world couldn't bring him up. I hate to admit it, but we left him here.  And for that, he lost a bit of himself that I'm not entirely sure he can get back."

"Are you saying it's our fault, sir?" Beth questioned, resting her head in the crook of her arm.  Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head.

"Of course not.  An illness is never anyone's fault; not ours, not Dave's, not the doctor's; it's something called fate."

Beth smiled.  "You believe in that stuff, Mr. James?"

Matching her grin, Jimmy shrugged.  "Things happen for unknown reasons.  Who are we to judge whether it's real or not?"

Nodding, Beth rose to her feet and stretched.  "I think I'm gonna go on up to my room.  I do believe it's TV time."

Jimmy joined her.  "Sounds like a plan.  Hey, I think 'Friends' is on!"

*  ~ *

"Ouch!" Lisa yanked her arm back in pain, sticking her fingers into her mouth.  Frowning at the hole in one of Jimmy's oven mitts, she threw it on the counter, opting for a rag to hold the hot pan with instead.  Shaking out her hand, she piled rice onto seven plates, followed by rather small pieces of fish and green beans.  Surveying her work, she patted herself on the back.  It wasn't a picture perfect meal, but at least it was edible.  Hey, she hadn't had any time to perfect the recipes.

Breaking out the plastic forks and knives, knowing that later on no one would want to do the dishes, Lisa snagged Jimmy and Beth as they were on their way upstairs, giving them each two plates to bring up for Joe, Matthew and themselves.

"What about you and Dave?" Beth asked, eyeing the food suspiciously, praying it was fit for human consumption.  Taking on an ingenuous expression, Lisa shooed her up the stairs.

"I don't know if he's sleeping, so I'll bring it up to him.  You know, see if he wants company or something…" The redhead cast her a look she couldn't quite place, so she retaliated with a "what?"  Returning the look, she picked up the two remaining plates and followed her upstairs.  "Where's his room?"

Gesturing with one of her plates, Beth pointed out the room at the end of the hallway.  The door was shut, and no light came from the crack between it and the floor.  Waiting for Jimmy and Beth to get out of sight, Lisa continued on down the hall, ignoring the plates' heat against her skin.  Setting one plate on top of the other, she knocked on the door, listening for admission.  When none came, she knocked again and rested her ear against the door.  Still no sound came, so, despite any prudence, she tried the doorknob.  Fortunately it was unlocked, so she pushed it open a crack to peek inside.  As she suspected, Dave lay on his bed and on top of the covers, one arm on his stomach and the other draped across his eyes.  Reluctantly, Lisa backed out, leaving the door open a tad.  When she turned back around, she nearly dropped the plates she was holding.  Beth stood before her, her arms crossed but with a solicitous look on her face.

"Sleeping?" she whispered, taking one of the plates from Lisa's hand, who nodded in return.  Beth smiled.  "You'll get your chance tomorrow."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lisa queried, incredulous.  Beth winked.

"Taking advantage of the weak, now are we?" she giggled, hoping to brighten the drab mood.  Lisa swatted her on the arm in defense while Beth put up her arms in defeat.  "Just… sleep well, okay?"

One of the first genuine smiles crept into Lisa's features as she nodded.  "You too, Beth."

*  ~ *

An hour later, despite her efforts not to do so, Lisa found herself at the sink, washing the plates her friends had so generously cleared.  They had all gone to bed, regardless of the seemingly early hour, and the cabin had grown dark.  It didn't feel like a home to her, not being very cozy, but Lisa was glad for it.    It was nice to get away from her lonely apartment, even if it did mean spending twenty-four hours with her coworkers.  And leaving Matthew to fend for himself in a giant house was like leaving him to deal with his own suicide mission.  If it weren't for Jimmy, the group wouldn't be reunited, save two.  Catharine was in her thoughts - Lisa missed her second WNYX sister.  Bill was always in her prayers, though she knew that every waking moment, he was looking down at them all and laughing.  To make it easier, she would laugh right back at him.  It felt right to laugh when he was in mind, though everyone never really thought he was funny.  In the back of their minds, he'd make them laugh, with all of his eccentricities.  Now, she wished for it, along with his bickering on-air partner, just so that the family would be complete once again.

Setting the last of the dishes in their respective cupboards, Lisa threw the damp towel into the sink, cursing the lack of dishwasher in the giant home.  Drying her hands on her pants, she flipped the switch to the wall sconces and headed up the stairs.  

There were enough rooms to comfortably house a football team, and Lisa was grateful, as was everyone else, she mused, to have her own room.  The second floor was devoted entirely to boarding, keeping each room within close range, but far enough for privacy's sake, of each other.  Hers was between Matthew's and Beth's, Jimmy's being at the head of the long hallway.  Max followed Jimmy, and Joe's was before Matthew's.  At the opposite end of the hall, perpendicular to Beth's, was Dave's room.  The hall proceeded with a long, narrow walkway, which no one was brave enough to follow as of yet.  The walkway led to more rooms, which backed the presently occupied ones.  Jimmy himself hadn't yet explored these rooms; the floor reminded him of that of a hotel's lodging.

At the top of the stairs, Lisa couldn't help but imagine the hospital's hallway, though less comforting than the walls she faced now.  To the left, she saw her room, acting as a safety.  She could go to bed now, and leave her curiosity until the next morning.  But to the right, she saw Dave's room, both foreboding and alluring at the same time.  She had so many questions for him, and it frustrated her that he wouldn't make time to settle some nerves his friends had been dealing with.  She wished she could call him selfish, putting everyone at an arm's length in such a short amount of time, but he truly was altruistic.  Understandably, he was tired.  He had been through a lot…

That didn't stop Lisa.  Without another thought, she was on her way down the hall towards his room, minding her heavy steps to keep from waking the other residents.  She didn't feel the apprehension she felt at the hospital.  Instead, approaching his room seemed like she was getting closer to comfort, to settling her stresses.

"Lisa?"

She almost tripped at Jimmy's voice, spinning on her heel to face him.  He exited the bathroom down the hall that was between Matthew and Joe's rooms, wearing nothing but his robe.  Trying to ignore his attire, Lisa smiled.

"What's up, Jimmy?" she asked, swaying on her feet nonchalantly.  Mr. James smiled, joining her side.

"You, uh, you wouldn't be doing what I think you're doing?" he kidded, putting his hands behind his back.  Lisa feigned a confused expression, gesturing back to Dave's room.

"Well, it's a warm night, so I thought I'd open his window for him.  It can get awfully stuffy…"

Shaking his head, Jimmy turned and headed in the direction of his room.  "Good night Lisa."

"Night, Mr. James," she murmured back, a smug expression on her face.  How could he read her thoughts so easily?

His door was still open a notch like she had left it, and still there was no light from inside.  She thanked the moon, which provided a natural lantern through the large windows that donned each room.  It filtered into the room, creating a much more tranquil atmosphere than it had in the hospital room.  Pushing the door open, she stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat in surprise.

Dave sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his face turned to the floor.  His breathing was shallow, but he obviously wasn't sleeping.  Quietly, Lisa shut the door behind her and stepped further inside, hoping to get some sort of reaction from the silent man.  When he didn't look at her, she walked over to the window and lifted its sill, letting the warm breeze drift into the room.  The silence was making her uneasy; it wasn't often that the two had such uncomforting moments between each other.  

"It's nice out tonight," Lisa started, her voice almost unsure.  Meeting his side, she looked down at him, wishing she could lift his face and see what was going on inside his mind.  He had changed more than she had feared to be true, and she could sense his self-pity.  Only, she knew he hadn't any compassion for himself.  It was for everyone else.

The growing silence served only to increase her anger.  She wasn't angry with him entirely, but the situation was what made her so exasperated.  

"Come on Dave, this has got to stop."  Still, he didn't answer.  Lisa began pacing between him and the door, uncertain whether to leave him to his misery or let her irritation get the best of her.  "I know it's hard, but what's happened to you?  At least show some of your old sarcasm, for crying out loud."  Breaking her stride, she turned to him once again.  "For God's sake, what's wrong with you?"

Finally, as though weary of her complaints, Dave moved, rubbing his dry eyes with his hand before looking up at her.  "I… I-I can't feel… I can't feel my legs…"

Biting her lip, Lisa was ultimately at a loss for words.  The doctor's words rushed through her thoughts, and her initial alarm melted away.  Forgetting her anger, she knelt on the floor before him and began rubbing his legs, hoping to get his blood flowing. 

"Dr. Cohen said something about this; it's normal for you to lose feeling in your legs once in a while.  It shouldn't be anything to worry about unless it happens too often…"

"Lisa, stop it…" Dave muttered, his head still in his hands.  Ignoring him, Lisa switched to his other leg.

"Really, there's no need to worry.  I swear, you're uptight about so much; you have to open your mind to some consequences.  Things are going to be better, I know it—" 

"I said stop it, Lisa," Dave interrupted, his voice finding strength.  He stood, but just as soon as he was on his feet did he stagger beside her, the numbness of his legs rendering him to the floor.  

Lisa was silent.  His breath was heavier than before, as if the wind had been knocked out of him, and he leaned back against the bed, running his hand through his already disheveled hair.  When what seemed like forever ended, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, an empty look in his eyes.  For the moment, nothing seemed suitable for her to say, so she simply returned his wounded stare.  She had missed those blue eyes so much.

Faltering, Lisa drew him into his arms, her eyes wetting at how he shuddered.  Her hands went to his hair and rubbed his back, and like in the hospital, she only felt relief when his hand rested on her shoulder.  Her search for words was forgotten, for they weren't needed.

*  ~ *

**Author's Ending Note:  **I've got a question for you readers…  please be gentle!  My beta reader says that, when I'm writing seriously, my wording is a bit stiff.  Now, in my own defense, English is my second language, so believe it or not, it's harder for me to write casually (like in review replies) than to write seriously.  Anywho (by the way, I think "anywho" is a genius word.  Thank you Phil Hartman/Bill McNeil!), let me know what you think… if you feel like it.  :D


	10. 10

**Author's Note:  **Oh, what the hey -  you've all been really patient through my laziness, I'll just go ahead and post two chapters in one day.  

Lose Yourself

Chapter 10

*~ Syren ~*

* ~ *

**Last Chapter:  **Beth and Jimmy have a chat, which ends with 'Friends.'  Lisa didn't have time to perfect any recipes, but she made dinner anyway…  Had a chat with Dave – results in "awww-ing."

* ~ *

            All eyes were on Lisa when she descended the stairs to the kitchen the next morning, the clock chiming ten times.  Joe, Max, Matthew and Beth waited patiently in silence at the large dining room table as she poured herself a cup of coffee, grabbed the World News section of the newspaper, and meandered over to them.  Sitting at the side, she glanced towards the head of the table, half expecting Dave to be there.  She even missed the conference table.

            Dismissing the rest, Lisa continued reading, unbeknownst to her the eyes that bore into her forehead.  Taking a sip from her mug, she looked at it a second, then slammed it down on the table, disregarding the burning sensation on her hand when the liquid sloshed out.

            "What is it?" she demanded, eyeing each of her coworkers in turn.  Without a second glance, Matthew, Joe and Max ran from their seats, eager to escape the wrath that was Lisa.  Still, Beth remained, idly snapping her gum and returning the stare Lisa gave her.

            "Did you have a nice night last night?" she asked, her voice casual.  Frowning, Lisa got up to retrieve a napkin for the mess she had made.

            "Dave and I talked last night…" Lisa answered, returning to mop up the spill. 

             Beth was incredulous.  "And this talk you had lasted all night?"

            A shocked expression replaced Lisa's indifferent one.  "Whatever you're thinking didn't happen, Beth."

            "I wasn't suggesting anything," she replied, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.  "Lisa…"

            "We're friends, Beth," she exclaimed matter-of-factly.  "Nothing more."

            Though Lisa looked away, hiding the doubts that were in her own eyes, Beth's were deadlocked on her.  " Then why is this so hard for you?"

* ~ *

            "I thought you said it was nearby," Dave wondered out loud.  He and Jimmy James had to set out by 9:00 to meet their 10:30 Saturday appointment at the Diabetic Therapy Station.  Shrugging, Jimmy continued humming along with the radio.

            "It was… with the helicopter."  Sighing, Dave rubbed his eyes tiredly.  Though he knew the physical therapy was needed, he obviously wasn't looking forward to it; he wasn't ready for it.  The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn't ready for _reality_.  For as long as he could remember, he had always been so sure of himself, even during his blood pressure scare.  He hadn't feared what the future would bring, though in consolation, he never dreamed of anything to this extent.  And for the first time in quite a while, he admitted to himself… he was scared.

            Interrupting his own thoughts, Dave looked over at Jimmy.  "Mr. James, how long was Nancy with me at the hospital?"

            Jimmy's expression was thoughtful.  The sweet girl had gone through so much during the last few months, never losing faith.  He could still see the love she felt for him.  "She was there for quite awhile, Dave."  Smiling, he gave a sideways glance to the man beside him.  "In the beginning, you woke up once for a few minutes, and she was right at your side ever since.  I do believe she's still in New York."

            Turning his head forward again, Dave stared out at the sky ahead of him, marveling at the accumulating rain clouds.  The blue was fading to a wispy gray, spanning for miles ahead.  Still, during the engine's lulls at stoplights, he could hear some birds singing…  

            "So what do you think?" Jimmy asked, hoping to sound offhand.  Dave was silent, keeping his stare on the road ahead of him.  She's done so much, but it's been so long…

            "I don't know, sir.  I guess time will tell…" 

            Nodding understandably, Jimmy was thankful when the building came into sight.  Swerving the car into the parking lot, he pulled out a handicap parking sign and placed it on his rearview mirror.  Frowning, Dave gaped at him.

            "Sir, you're not handicapped."

            Jimmy chuckled.  "No, but you are."

            "I don't believe I am, sir."

            "But you are.  Just for the sake of parking, play along."

            Shaking his head, Dave stepped out of the car and followed the older man inside.  The building was three stories high and appeared relatively uninviting.  "Which floor are we on, Mr. James?"

            "Right here," he answered, opening the first door on the right.  Thanking him, Dave stepped inside and headed to the receptionist's booth.  After signing his name on a sheet, the portly woman through the booth's window handed him a clipboard and pen.  Filling out the forms as quickly as he could, he returned them to her and took a seat next to Jimmy, who was already flipping through a Time Magazine.  Sighing, he leaned comfortably in his seat, preparing himself for what he suspected would be at least an hour's wait.

            "Mr. Nelson?"  A man stood in the doorway next to the receptionist, glancing around the room for him.  Impressed, Dave cast a questioning look at his entourage.

            "What?" Jimmy asked, divulged in his magazine.  "Good service can easily be bought."

            Standing, Dave made his way over to the man, who smiled and held out his hand.  Shaking it, Dave introduced himself.

            "It's nice to meet you, Dave.  I'm Dr. Sutton, and I'll be seeing to your session today."  Gesturing down the hall, the two started towards a far room, Dr. Sutton flipping through his medical sheets.  "I can tell by your stride that you're having some agitation in your leg muscles?"  Nodding, Dave let him continue.  "Nothing to worry about.  That's what your therapy is for."

            "So what kind of program am I in for?" Dave asked, following Dr. Sutton into the last room of the hall.  Inside, he expected an analysis room, but instead, they had entered a small office.  Dr. Sutton took a seat in front of his desk, offering the chair on the opposite side to his patient.

            "They're more like a syllabus of sessions, Mr. Nelson," he replied, again scanning the medical sheets before him.  "They will begin on your next visit.  Today, we'll run some preliminary tests…"  The doctor hesitated.  "Mr. Nelson, I have a matter to discuss with you."  Seeing that Dave agreed, Dr. Sutton proceeded.  "Earlier I spoke with your doctor, Dr. Cohen, over the phone.  I let him know of a procedure for your condition, and he gave the OK.  It's now for your consideration."

            "A procedure?"

            "I'm sure you are aware of the insulin injections you are required to take."  Dave nodded.  "Type 1 Diabetes can lead to complications affecting almost every part of the body.  This disease launched a number of institutes across the country, each searching for a cure.  Recently, the Diabetes Research Institute at the University of Miami has been experimenting on a novel drug.  The head of research, Dr. Norma Kenyon, stated that this drug may be a key part to actually being able to accomplish islet cell transplants without the need for long term use of anti-rejection drugs like insulin."  He handed Dave a sheet outlining the drug.  "It's called Anti-CD154.  It protects the insulin-producing cells, the islet cells, from rejection.  Dr. Kenyon made it clear that it was too early to call it a cure drug, but a handful of the patients who used it have successfully been able to stay off insulin for quite some time."

            Scanning the paper in his hand, Dave frowned.  He hadn't heard of this new breakthrough.  "Uh… what are the, uh, consequences?"

            Pushing his glasses on top of his head, Dr. Sutton leaned forward and folded his hands together.  "There aren't any real _consequences_, per se.  There are some doctors, admitting, who are against the drug; they don't want patients trading insulin for a toxic medicine.  The only corollary is this: throughout the 300 plus islet cell transplants that have been made in the last decade, only a few patients have been able to stay off insulin for a significant amount of time, as I said before."

            Letting the information sink in, Dave ran a hand through his hair uneasily.  Dr. Sutton noted his concern.  " You can take a chance with this new drug and possibly be free of constant insulin shots, or you can take the latter option.  Whichever you decide is fine.  If you choose the Anti-CD154, be sure to bring your insulin supply on your next visit."

            Releasing a held–in breath, Dave stood and extended his hand, which Dr. Sutton took.  "I'll be sure to consider it."

* ~ *

            Nearing 1:00, Joe sighed in boredom.  A perfectly good Saturday was lost to the dreary weather, and the rest of his housemates were too lethargic to do anything at all.  He considered rewiring Jimmy's cabin for optimum lighting or maybe rigging up an intercom system, but again, the outside conditions brought him down from his normalcy.  Not once that day did he even think about the aliens that were most likely seeking him at that very moment.

            Breaking his concentration of absolutely nothing, the doorbell rang, echoing throughout the mansion-like cabin.  Listening for any footsteps, though none came, Joe reluctantly got up, mumbling at how lazy everyone was.  Dragging his feet to the door, he glimpsed out the peephole, his demeanor escalating at the sight of a soaked, though still appealing, woman outside.  Throwing the door open, he ushered her inside without a word in exchange, apologizing for nature's onslaught.

            "Oh, it's alright, really," the woman answered, wringing out her hair.  Noticing the puddle she was making, she blushed.

            "Hold on, I'll get you a towel," Joe offered, running off to the downstairs linen pantry and returning with the item in mind.  Thanking him, the woman peeled off her jacket and wrapped the towel around her shoulders, embarrassingly wiping the mascara that smeared her cheeks.

            "I wasn't expecting rain today…" she mused out loud, gazing about the lodge.  "This place is amazing…"

            "Yeah, it's huge," Joe returned, his eyes glued to her.  It was taking all that he had inside to keep from dropping any crude pickup lines he was so attuned to.  The women of New Hampshire were laid back, in comparison to New York, and his past attempts with them had been disastrous.  His ideas of pickup lines were there idea of blasphemy.  "Pardon me, but, uh, what did you say your name was?"

            The woman smiled, extending a hand in greeting.  "I didn't.  It's Kristina.  I'm looking for a Jimmy James or a Dave Nelson."

            Thanking the heavens, Joe grinned.  "They both reside here, ma'am, but they are out at the moment.  My name is Joe, and I'd be happy to keep you company until they get back."

            Before she could reply, Lisa's voice butted in.  "Kristina?  What are you doing down here, all the way from New York?"

            "New York!?" Joe exclaimed despite himself.  Kristina nodded.

            "I work with the WNYX station."  She turned to Lisa, who was coming down the stairs to join them.  "Before you left, Mr. James stopped by the office.  He thought it would be a good idea for Mr. Nelson's secretary to come down for business purposes and the like."  She blushed.  "I'm afraid of heights, so I drove down instead of taking him up on his helicopter offer."

            Hiding her disappointment, Lisa smiled.  Jimmy knew Kristina had a crush, and this was his way of matchmaking.  "Well, of course you're welcome as long as you like—" 

            "Kristina, glad you could make it little lady."  Jimmy's voice boomed from the doorway.  Entering the discussion, Jimmy put a hand on her shoulder.  "You had an okay trip down, I hope?"

            "Yes sir, Mr. James," she answered.  The intimidation she felt for the man began melting away, and she could see why Dave had spoken so highly of the man.

            As if reading her thoughts, Dave appeared in the doorway.  "Kristina?"

            Her heart jumping in her throat, she tried to hold down her stuttering.  "Oh, h-hi Mr. Nelson.  I, uh… I—" 

            "Mr. James told me in the car," he interjected, knowing how nervous she got when she had to explain her way through things.  "And I thought I could get away with a vacation."

            Giggling, Kristina's cheeks reddened again; she cursed the habit she was born with.  "Who better to keep Matthew in line?  He's been up here for so long…"

            At the mention of his name, yet another house-member flounced down the stairs, spotting Kristina instantaneously.  "When'd you get here?"

            Jumping, Kristina faced the voice.  "Just now.  You haven't been causing too much trouble, have you?"

            Sheepishly, Matthew shrugged, causing another laugh from Kristina.  The sweetness was at a level that would make Lisa puke, but she couldn't help but like the shy girl.  Whoever could quiet Matthew deserved _some_ credit in her book.

* ~ *

            It was a slow day in the restaurant, and Nancy was grateful for it.  When she first took up the job, she was more than appreciative, working as hard as she could to please her employer.  She felt indebted to him for offering her the job when he didn't need any more hired help; he had faltered at the story she told of the man she loved being in a coma, and her coming down to the state that had divided them to be by his side.  It had worked, but when her belief in her own story began to wane, it grew more arduous to commit herself to the job.  Of course, Dave taking his leave of New York didn't help either.

            The day he was released, Dave had found her in the waiting room along with all the others who had been companying him.  When he had finished a brief chat with each one, he had walked over and hugged her.  No words were exchanged between them, and Nancy could feel her heartstrings being snipped, one by one.  All together, they waited for Jimmy James' helicopter to arrive and set down on the hospital roof's landing pad.  Then, as she watched them take off, she had felt the need to bawl.  But like the day so long ago when he made it clear to her that they had broken up, she kept her composure.  So she waved, and she smiled, and she laughed.  What more was there for her to do?

            Nancy hated the weakness she felt.  For so long, when she had been the only one at his bedside, she kept picturing the movie _While You Were Sleeping_, waiting for Dave to wake up so they could rekindle their relationship.  And when he did wake, she was sure at any moment, he would take her in his arms and tell her he loved her.  And he did take her into his arms… and she felt nothing.  Well, she couldn't say '_nothing_.'  She felt a friend, one who had been in need.  The love she had thought was undying and devoted had been that of a close companion's.  And she was happy.  Now realizing for the first time, she felt relieved.  She felt free, though regretfully.

            Flipping the 'open' sign so it read 'closed,' Nancy untied her apron and headed to the faculty room in the back.  Inside was her boss, putting the last of the day's earnings in the safe.

            "Could I get my two week's check?" Nancy asked, tossing her apron into the dirty linen hamper.  Grunting in response, the manager handed her an envelope with her name on it.  Thanking him, she picked up a pen and, skimming the working schedule, began crossing her own name off the pages.

            "What are you doing?" the manager asked, gaping at her.  Nancy smiled and tossed him the pen.

            "I'm going home."

* ~ *

**Author's Note:  **Be kind… ~_~


	11. 11

Author's Note: So... I've been gone lately, huh?... If you really want to know what has happened to me for the past couple of months, I'd be happy to oblige.   
  
New Contacts: De_Heks_Sirene@hush.ai - and - IM: De Heks Sirene  
  
New Sites: http://dehekssirene@diaryland.com (daily blog) http://wrstcptnever.diaryland.com (creative writing) - The old site is still up, as well: http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986.htm - it will no longer be updated because I no longer have the program I created it in.  
  
As for review replies... I see fit to reply to one in particular. bloodyredtubesockscuzilikelevisandcatsohyeahboohyahbababooeycuzselfmutilationismymotivation - uh... thank you for the interest you've placed in my story... can't deny I'm a bit taken back... and a bit frightened... but flattered, nonetheless. Not to sound inconsiderate or anything, but please refrain from a repeat of this review. A simple "please update soon" would suffice. :D Thanks again... I love you, please don't hurt me.   
  
Last Chapter: Dave takes a trip to the doctor, and a new guest enters the Jimmy James residence. Also, Nancy makes a big decision... will we ever hear from her again? Who in the seven hells knows!  
  
Lose Yourself  
  
Chapter 11  
  
*~ Syren ~*  
  
The day, from that point on, took on a lighter atmosphere. As they had done to Nancy so long ago, everyone took a shine to Kristina, ever so shy. Getting to know every person in the lodge was almost a chore for her, her bashful manner getting in the way. Still, the others were glad to oblige, and before long, they were more than acquaintances. Even Lisa, who seemed so distant, had made a point of getting to know her, and for that, she was grateful. She was still something of a role model to Kristina, ever since she read the feature on her in the Washington Post.   
  
After awhile, Kristina managed to get away from the commotion. The retired WNYX crew was an unusual bunch, but with their sarcastic, though friendly, conducts, she didn't feel as awkward as she feared.  
  
"They didn't scare you, did they?" Dave's voice sounded from her doorway, and Kristina paused in her unpacking to wave him in. She coerced away a rising blush when he sat down on her bed beside her, a soft smile on his face. "I really am surprised you came all the way up here. Aren't the others jealous you got away?"  
  
Laughing, Kristina tried busying herself with her suitcases, hoping he wouldn't catch sight of her… delicates. "I don't think they'll notice, anyway. They're always so busy."  
  
"That's an understatement," Dave agreed. "I don't think I've had a true conversation with half of them."  
  
Biting her lip, Kristina shied away from her words again. The worst part was that Dave knew when she had something to say, but was too reserved to point it out. Even more so, what she had to say was more likely than not something rather plausible. She reminded him of Lisa, albeit outgoing.  
  
Sensing it, Dave leaned his elbows on his knees. "Kristina?" Again, silence; she made it a point to look occupied with putting her clothes away in her drawers. It was hard for both of them when she acted that way; her for finding valor, and him for bringing it out in her, not to mention trying to forget the reason for it all. One day, when he had become sick of her timidity and confronted her, under the pressure, she had spilled her guts to him. When she had graduated from college and found her first secretary's job, her boss hadn't been, to say the least, the best. As intelligent a girl as she was, the man had used her as a stair step, constantly and purposefully belittling her. When a mistake was made, he'd tantrum; when her words stammered, he'd tantruml; and when she refused his advances, he'd tantrum. Needless to say, she took the incidents painfully to heart, and had taken a year of the cruelty before finally reporting him for sexual harassment. When she came to work for Dave, her aptitude amazed him, but it was all he could take to keep from snapping at her withdrawn behavior. He had made it a point to keep her from becoming as the other new employies of WNYX had - workaholics without a bone of sentiment in their bodies. Alas, she would refuse speaking with him more than what was necessary, and kept to herself all day long. At last, when she confided in him, he had won her trust, and it had meant the world to her. Little did he know the true extent of her feelings.  
  
"Kristina…" his voice was sympathetic, backed with the slightest demanding tone. Giving up her 'busy façade,' Kristina's shoulders slumped as she turned to face him.  
  
"Dave… why don't you open up to any of your employees?"   
  
Dumbstruck by her sudden bit of confidence, Dave hesitated. "Well, they aren't the easiest to get to know." He regretted the tinge of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"They won't open to you unless you allow yourself to open up to them."  
  
Sighing, Dave rose to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's difficult to explain, Kristina. You of all people should understand that."  
  
Letting her newfound self-assurance take over, Kristina countered; "You're right. It is hard. But that didn't stop me. I confided in you, as hard as it was, because I trust you. More than you could imagine." Forgetting the formality, she took his hand. "Now I want you to trust me, Dave."  
  
After a moment's silence, Dave conceded with a sigh. There was something about the woman he couldn't refuse. "Before, I allowed myself to get close with my employees, one in particular. To make a tediously long story short, they packed up and moved to New Hampshire, leaving me here with Matthew." Detecting the knowing look in Kristina's eyes, he persisted. "That was my mistake. It's imperative to maintain the boss/employee relationship status than that of the boss/friend."  
  
"You didn't go with them to New Hampshire because of that one person?" Kristina queried, her gaze unrelenting.  
  
Shrugging in defeat, Dave answered, "Not entirely, but yes."   
  
"What makes you think history will repeat itself?" Kristina's expression appeared hurt, but Dave knew the hurt was for him. "I want you to trust me," she repeated, stepping closer to him. "No matter of your past."   
  
His blue eyes meeting her brown ones, his brow knitted together in empathy. "I do, Kristina."  
  
She could sense the unconvincing tone in his voice. "I want to be your friend, Dave," she murmured. Disregarding every ounce of her shyness, she took his face in her hands. "If not more…" With that, she gently pulled his face down to hers and placed a tender kiss on his lips. Her touch was as light as a breath and ended as quickly as it had begun. When she opened her eyes, Kristina pulled abruptly away, embarrassment welling in her stomach; Dave's expression was of surprise. A hand flying to her mouth, Kristina apologized rapidly before sprinting from the room, her eyes moistening in her dismay.  
  
Finding the breath Kristina had knocked out of him, Dave started after her, but as soon as he stepped into the hall, he stopped. Standing beside him, her mouth agape in astonishment, was Lisa, staring up at him with an expression that mirrored his own.  
  
"Oh, uh…" she stuttered, wringing her hands and backing away. "I was just, uh, on my way to, uh-" Without finishing her sentence, she trotted down the hall to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Leaning heavily against her door, Lisa had to force herself to release her breath. Her eyes clamped shut, she shook her head as if to clear it and fell onto her bed. She berated herself for eavesdropping, but more so, for feeling the jealousy that was beginning to rot her mind.   
  
"Why am I feeling like this?" she whispered to herself, rubbing her temples. In the back of her mind, she knew, but her headache clouded her judgment. Not only was she a hypocrite for the recent sentiments that inhabited her heart, but also, she was a cheater. She had never once in her life cheated on any of her partners, and it pained her to know that, in a way, she was doing it now. Was it apt for her to be experiencing such emotions, even if she didn't understand them fully? If it wasn't… why did it feel so painfully right?  
  
~ * ~  
  
"What in the world was I thinking…?" Kristina murmured between sniffles. She had run from the house, despite the slight downpour, and now found herself sitting on the shabby fence that bordered the cabin's lot. Not only had she embarrassed herself to the point of no return, she had seen what she had feared: Dave's eyes held nothing for her, save admiration and the trust she had for so long wanted from him. The kiss they had shared was warm and tender, but the emotion was purely one-sided. Kristina knew that he didn't want to hurt her, but if so, why now was she aching so badly?  
  
Muffled footsteps sounded ahead of her, and her head snapped up, almost losing her balance on the fence. Heading towards her was the man she had met earlier, Joe, thankfully equipped with an umbrella. As he drew nearer, she could make out a worried expression marring his features, and she had the urge to blush.  
  
"You know, it's not easy to find someone in this giant ranch, let alone outside of it," Joe started, perching himself beside her and holding the umbrella above both of their heads. "Every time we chat, it seems you're drenched."  
  
Laughing quietly, she rubbed her cold nose, her shyness returning. "You don't need to keep me company, I'll be alright…"  
  
Shrugging, Joe grinned. "It's no skin off my back." Chewing the inside of his cheek temperately, Joe cleared his throat. "I wanted to know…" Looking to him, Kristina offered a small smile of encouragement. "Why do you like Dave so much?"  
  
Her smile fading, Kristina busied herself twiddling her fingers together. "How… uh, how do you know about… about that?"  
  
"It's pretty obvious," Joe replied, hoping not to sound derisive.   
  
Gazing out towards the cabin, Kristina clutched the railing to keep her balance. "It's a lot of reasons, I guess… he's smart, intellectual, committed, trustworthy…adorable…" She laughed at her own naiveté. "His eyes are breathtaking…"  
  
Nodding through her recitation, Joe looked down to his hands, pausing after she finished. "You know… I was thinking about getting those colored contacts…"  
  
Kristina could only giggle at his timid charm, which she had a feeling wasn't common of him. But still, something was bothering her. "Joe…"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Biting her lip with hesitation, Kristina continued. "What are Dave and Lisa to each other?"  
  
Joe raised his eyes to the sky. "They were a couple before… two times, actually." He laughed. "They broke the rulebooks by having an office relationship. After their second break up, they went their separate ways, and Lisa married this dude named Johnny Johnson."  
  
The concept sinking in, Kristina frowned. For what Joe was saying, the impression she had felt of Lisa and Dave's connection with each other should be unsubstantial. But then, she couldn't dismiss the look she saw in Lisa's eyes when she ran from her room earlier. She knew that Lisa had overheard her, and at that moment, her expression was incomprehensible. But now, when the scene recurred in her mind, Kristina could tell exactly what was read in Lisa's eyes: love. And the love wasn't for this Johnny Johnson Joe spoke of.   
  
~ * ~  
  
Matthew was confused. He had been feeding his cats in the kitchen when the bustling around the cabin started. First, Kristina had made her way hastily down the stairs and out the front door, not bothering with a passing 'hi' on her way. Shortly after, a door slammed shut upstairs, causing Choo-Choo and Mitt-Mitt to jump and start fussing in annoyance. Then, umbrella in hand, Joe followed Kristina's tracks, with what could have been a concerned, but happy smile on his face. Finally, the phone rang, and as he headed over to answer it, someone from upstairs picked it up only after the first ring. Checking the caller ID, Matthew read 'Sutton,' and disregarded it.   
  
"It's pretty boring, huh guys?" Matthew asked the cats, resenting how everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves for the most part…   
  
The hushed commotion was enough to rouse Matthew's curiosity.   
  
Picking up one of his cats, which growled at him for interrupting its meal, Matthew headed up the stairs. Stopping at Lisa's door, he knocked a rhythm on her door. Lisa's muffled response seemed derogatory, but he could make out the words 'go away.' Turning his nose up, he huffed, then made his way to the only open door on the floor: Kristina's. Inside, with the phone held to his ear, was Dave, a grim expression on his face. Heaving a sigh, Dave dropped the phone back into its cradle, finally acknowledging Matthew's presence.  
  
"You've got some visitors," he announced in a singsong voice. Frowning, Dave strode past him and towards his room.  
  
"Matthew, if you don't get that cat away from me…"  
  
Of course, Matthew followed. "Oh come on, he likes you!" He had to dive to make it inside Dave's room before the door shut him out. "What's all the hubbub?"  
  
Holding down his aggravation, Dave shook his head. "Nothing, Matthew."  
  
"Who called? I don't know anyone named 'Sutton.'"   
  
Dave cursed the Caller ID. "It was my therapist."  
  
Confused, Matthew glanced down at Choo-Choo and back up to Dave. "You need a therapist? Is this whole ordeal driving you to insanity?"  
  
"Not that kind of therapist," Dave replied. "It's therapeutic treatment, to make my body as responsive as it was before the diabetes and coma."  
  
"So… why are you so frustrated?"  
  
Dave bit back the sarcasm. "Just… a lot of things."  
  
"Was it the doctor?"  
  
"What is this, Twenty Questions?" Sitting at the edge of his bed, Dave ran a hand through his hair. "But yes, the doctor gave me some bad news. The results came back from the tests he took during my first session, and it seems that my body can't handle the new drug that's 'on the market.'"  
  
"Drug?" Matthew dropped the cat and clutched Dave's shoulders. "Drugs aren't the answer, David. There are support groups for addicts, it'll be alright."  
  
"No," Dave exclaimed, backing out of Matthew's grip. "A medicinal drug. It's supposed to be some kind of insulin substitute that's more affective."  
  
"Ooo, you should get that. I get all queasy watching you give yourself shots."  
  
His head lolling forward, Dave rubbed at his eyes. "Like I said, my body can't handle it."  
  
Matthew shrugged. "So then keep on the insulin thingies."   
  
"My body isn't responding to that very well," Dave theorized, glancing at the cat, which was now clawing at the door and meowing loudly. "I feel worse when I take them… You know Matthew, you don't look too well yourself."  
  
Knowing Dave referred to his red, scratchy eyes, the nasally pitch, more so than usual, to his voice, and runny nose, Matthew waved it off. "Yeah, I've got the flu. But that's beside the point. You gotta do it, David," he insisted, his 'motherly' instinct kicking in. Dave nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder and directing him to the door.  
  
"Will do… now get that cat out of here before I give it to Jimmy to stuff for another one of his decorations."  
  
~ * ~ 


	12. 12

Author's Note ****PLEASE READ****  
  
I would like to extend many thanks to my faithful readers who have for quite some time now been patient and, for the most part, understanding of my absence. Some times, there are things that are just more important, and for me, these things don't come to an end, such as grief, remembrance, and heartbreak... resulting in a prolonged trip back home, to Holland. My family and I have suffered many losses over the course of 2003, and are looking for a brighter 2004, once it arrives. For now, all we have are our prayers.  
  
Details: The old site is still up at http://members.tripod.com/shorty_est_1986. So is the blog at http://dehekssirene.diaryland.com, which I'm planning on converting into my writing center (including this piece of work). Not exactly sure when that's going to take place, but ya know... Also, if you are a fan of CLAY AIKEN, check out this wonderful site I started: http://doaclfounder.diaryland.com - soon to be converted into a wonderful layout and host outside of that pitiful diaryland, 'cause I'm doing pretty good with my html. ^_^  
  
Without further ado...  
  
Lose Yourself  
  
Chapter 12  
  
~ * ~  
  
*  
  
In the doorway of the den, Dave watched Lisa intently. It was late, and though the storm was still unrelenting, Lisa's phone conversation had miraculously drifted to his room. While the others merely slammed the doors in frustration and tried ignoring the racket, Dave chose to make his way downstairs to witness for himself.  
  
She sat in Jimmy's overstuffed easy chair with her back to him, clutching the phone to her ear. Her shoulders trembled with anger, and Dave dismissed the heated words that spouted from her mouth… until one line grasped his attention.  
  
"It's not like I want to be here, Johnny. I'm obligated to stay." From there on, Dave didn't need to ignore her words; they were blurred and distant, dull to his senses. Her recent behavior, the look she gave him in the hall; none of it amounted to anything. He feared being delusional, he feared jumping to conclusions, he feared naivette, but how else could he interpret what she spoke? She really didn't care.  
  
Reality snapped back to him when the harsh clang of a phone hitting its receiver echoed throughout the den. Letting her head fall into her heads momentarily, he could hear Lisa murmur to herself with a sardonic chuckle.  
  
"And I'm not even crying…" she muttered, standing reluctantly. Turning, she gasped at the sight of Dave leaning against the living room's entryway, his head down and hands stuffed in his pockets. Dread filling Lisa's heart, she shook her head, praying he hadn't heard what she knew he had.  
  
"Dave…" she started, stepping towards him. He refused to look up, and Lisa could feel the tension growing, as if the thin wire that held them together would snap at the tickle of her hushed breath.   
  
The floor was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen... at least it didn't pain his eyes in comparison to Lisa's beauteous face. Dave repeated her words. "You're obligated…?"  
  
Guilt-ridden, Lisa couldn't even muster sarcasm. "That's not what I meant…"  
  
"You seemed pretty clear." He stepped into the room, his eyes avoiding hers. The silence between them gave way to the deafening roar of the downpour above them, a sudden thunderclap causing Lisa to jump.  
  
"Why are you here, anyway?" Dave continued, looking to the window. Though the sun had only just set, the clouds that blanketed the sky made the darkness heavier. The only light within the room emanated from the weak fire, crackling down to its last embers. "You're basically the only one with a separate life to tend to."  
  
Lisa knew she couldn't take what he said as an insult, but she could find no other reason for her swelling anger. "What the hell is your problem, Dave?"  
  
A short, cynical laugh answered her. "Me? A problem? I haven't any problems, Lisa."  
  
"You've changed, Dave," Lisa accused, crossing her arms. "I'd say that's your damn problem."  
  
"I've changed!?" Dave exclaimed, gesturing to himself and finally meeting her stare. "I've changed? It's everyone else who's 'changed.' Even Jimmy is out of character with all of his damn seriousness."  
  
"It's a sensitive time for all of us, Dave. Sorry for showing a little compassion!"  
  
"If in your world showing compassion means alienating me, then thank God I'm not a part of it." Exasperated, Dave slumped into the chair Lisa had vacated, running a hand through his hair with a hesitant sigh.  
  
Stepping in front of him, Lisa fumed at his childishness. "Oh, poor little Dave-"   
  
Dave cut her short with a stern look. "Don't let me be a burden to you, Lisa," he told her, his voice thick with antipathy. "I didn't want this, but it was given to me. I have to live with it; I don't half expect you to."  
  
Lisa's breath caught in her throat. "What's that supposed to mean?" Had he insinuated that he truly believed they would end up together? That before his illness, he actually expected them to rekindle their romance, but now that he deemed himself 'imperfect,' he didn't want her to settle for 'second best'? Or was he so ashamed of his weakness? He had never been before...  
  
"I don't know anymore…" he mumbled, again averting his eyes away from hers. "I thought I had things figured out…"   
  
Seeing a window of opportunity, Lisa jumped. "Johnny and I-"   
  
"Why'd you leave him?" Dave interrupted, his cutthroat demeanor jumping to conclusions. "Did he serve too much jail time and convert to homosexuality?"  
  
Shocked, Lisa's mouth gaped open. Before, she would've stormed out right then and there, had he said such a thing out of normal jealousy. But no, his voice was dripping with spite. It held an intention of hurting. The wire snapped. Drawing back her hand, she slapped him across the face, immediately regretting it. She shuddered; her nail had left a jagged scratch along his cheek. Unable to regain her composure, she choked.   
  
His face unemotional, though his eye cringed at the stinging sensation and the warmth of the trickle of blood trailing his cheek, Dave stood and left without a final glance. As soon as she knew he was out of earshot, Lisa doubled over and let the day's onslaught of emotion wash out of her in heated tears.  
  
  
  
~ * ~  
  
It wasn't until nine the next morning when Dave finally descended downstairs, still groggy from lack of sleep. The state of affairs from the day before reeled in his mind all night long, and no sooner had he closed his eyes to pardoning slumber did his internal alarm clock sound.  
  
Rubbing his eyes temperately, Dave stepped into the conjoining kitchen and casual dining area, stopping short at the sight. Seated along the sides of the long, rectangular table were Lisa, Beth, Joe, Max, and Matthew. At the head of the table was a lone chair, meant for him. A soft smile of remembrance crept to his expression. If he hadn't known better, Dave would have called for a conference.   
  
"No work today?" he asked, settling in his chair.   
  
"We're taking a late breakfast. The others can do without us for a few hours." Gesturing around the table, Beth stood. "Can I get you a plate, Dave? Some coffee?"  
  
Dave shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine Beth. Thanks." A collective gasp sounded along the table, all eyes turned on the man in question. Worriedly, Beth leaned across the table and placed a hand on Dave's forehead, which he immediately batted away.  
  
"No coffee?" Joe asked, concerned. "Are you alright, dude?"  
  
Frowning, Dave sighed. "I said I was fine. My doctor thinks I should lay off a bit, is all."  
  
"I knew something was different about you," Beth mused, disregarding his glare. "In all seriousness, though, you don't look so good, Dave."  
  
Growing defensive, Matthew shot to his feet. "So I gave him my cold! He's not gonna die or anything…"  
  
"On the contrary, diabetics are highly susceptible to infections and diseases." Max grinned sardonically. "You may have written his death sentence."  
  
Eyes watering, Matthew whimpered and spun on his heel, tripping a few times as he ran to his room.   
  
"I was just going to ask how you got that nasty scratch on your cheek," Beth continued, glowering briefly at Max.  
  
Casting a glance towards Lisa, who had refused to make eye contact with him since he sat down, Dave saw her wince at Beth's question. Touching his fingertips to his cheek, he himself flinched in pain. It hadn't yet healed.  
  
Dave stuttered. "Oh… I-I cut myself shaving."  
  
"Really," Max interrupted, not breaking from his bountiful plate of food. "I wasn't aware the prepubescent had the capability to grow facial hair."  
  
Normally, Dave would have spit out his own sarcastic remark, but to the surprise of all witness, he smiled. "Thanks Max."  
  
Max stared at his former boss in wonder. "You're… welcome…?"  
  
Dave stood. "You're the only one who hasn't changed. Unbelievably enough… I hope you never do."  
  
~ * ~  
  
As a certain five members of Jimmy James' joint newspaper and radio station entered the office building, Cecile dropped what she was doing to intercept them, a bit irate. It was times like these that made her enjoy her position as co-boss.  
  
"And where have you all been?" she demanded, her voice level for the time being. Waving it off, Lisa walked past her.  
  
"It's alright, Cecile. We just had a late breakfast with our guest. We'll make it up to you."  
  
Unable to argue with her associate news-editor, Cecile rolled her eyes and continued to Matthew's desk, her demeanor lightening at the thought of an interrogation.  
  
Sitting on the desk's edge, Cecile grinned innocently. "A guest?"  
  
Matthew's eyebrows rose. "Oh, did I not mention that?"  
  
"Seeing how you five took an extended weekend, I figured something was up. But no, you did not mention it."   
  
Starting up his computer, Matthew leaned back in his chair. "We finally got Dave up to New Hampshire."   
  
"He's here?" Cecile inquired, jumping up from her perch. A bit timid from the woman's outburst, Matthew nodded. Grabbing his arm, Cecile pulled Matthew from his seat and shoved him into her office, closing the door behind her. Opening her file cabinet, she pulled out a small packet of papers and handed them to her employee.  
  
"What's this?" Matthew asked, flipping through the pages. He eyed the cover, seeing his name alongside hers.  
  
"Duh, our report." Joining his side, she looked over his shoulder as he continued to skim the words. "I edited it for you and put in a little bit of my own." Smiling, Cecile took the packet from his hands and beamed down at it. "Let's just say, this will be a hit."  
  
~ * ~  
  
Checking his watch, which read 8:00 PM, Dave breathed a diffident sigh. He stood before the main entrance of Jimmy's New Hampshire news radio station, unwilling to take the first step inside. Being there in the first place made him feel like a hypocrite. For so long, he had assured himself of his devotion to WNYX and refused the meager thought of coming to New Hampshire. Now that that right had been taken away from him, he felt like he was being drawn to the 'other side' even more so with his present situation.   
  
The day had been boring and uneventful with everyone away from the cabin, leaving him stranded. Kristina still avoided him, which in itself drove him up the wall. All that was left were Matthew's cats and Mr. James; while he would have opted for the cats, he settled for the being that could actually converse with him.   
  
No more than an hour ago, one of The Daily Jimmy's secretaries phoned the cabin and requested Jimmy's presence. In one of his brilliant insights, Jimmy decided to force Dave along with him. And while the newspaper was fascinating, pardon the sarcasm, Dave grew restless, and so forth found himself outside the station.  
  
Figuring that it was well-past quitting time and the office would be deserted, Dave pushed open the heavy double doors and made his way inside. The first floor consisted only of a vacant receptionist's desk, so he proceeded to the elevators and up the to the second floor.  
  
When the metal doors slid open, Dave's breath was taken away. The office was almost a mirror image of that of the original WNYX before he had had it redesigned, save for Beth's desk in the foyer and the extra office. The room was dimly lit by a few desk lamps, and, as he suspected, empty, save for the janitor who tipped his hat as he passed. Deciding against returning to the newspaper room, Dave wandered further inside, a rush of déjà vu jolting through him. The resemblance was almost uncanny.  
  
"Shows how much they actually wanted to leave," he murmured to himself, smugly. Even the desks, though there were a few more, were positioned in the same way. The second separate office intrigued him, though. From what he had heard, Lisa had an accomplice in the news director position, and he had an idea as to who it was.  
  
As if reading his thoughts, a door softly clicked shut, drawing Dave's attention to the office in question.   
  
"Long time no see, Dave," Cecile started, taking a few steps toward him. Acknowledging her with a half-hearted smile, Dave continued in his inspection. "Look a bit familiar?"  
  
"Yes, in fact, it does," he answered, his hands finding his pockets. "You've seen the old WNYX office?"  
  
Cecile's smile was as lax as his was. "I was referring to myself."  
  
Turning to her, Dave bowed his head for a moment. "Pardon me if I'm not exactly jumping for joy."  
  
"Understandable," she returned. "But you don't seem to be surprised in the very least that I'm here."  
  
Dave chuckled. "I knew. I overlooked Mr. James' business plans for this station and found your name and resume amongst the list of applicants."  
  
"As quick as ever, I see. You've done your research."  
  
He agreed. "I have. And it seems that you've done well for yourself."  
  
Grinning, Cecile nodded. "I learned from the best." A look of disbelief, though not the good kind, as she had feared, crossed his expression.  
  
"This coming from my long-term adversary?" he announced almost to himself. "You speak as if there was never any rivalry between us."  
  
"It was hardly a rivalry," Cecile interjected, dismayed by his reaction. "Every promotion, everything in general, you bested me in. I can't deny that it hurt…"  
  
Refusing pity, Dave met her gaze. "It wouldn't have hurt if you hadn't insisted that everything be a competition. If not for that obsession, we probably would have worked out."  
  
Cecile paused in apprehension. "You mean like you and Lisa?"  
  
Stunned to silence, Dave stared at her before his eyes drifted to the floor. "You knew about that?"  
  
"Besides the constant stories Matthew's been telling, it was pretty obvious on Lisa's behalf. Not to mention, I've done a little researching of my own."  
  
Dave shook his head, biting back a laugh of indifference. "I should have learned from the first time with you that office relationships can't work."  
  
Closing the distance between them, Cecile rested a hand on his arm. "Ah, the truth is revealed. She is the reason you did not join us here."  
  
"If I had come here," Dave conceded, "I would have been given the news director job." Almost ashamed, Dave again met her gaze. "Where would that leave you? Not to mention, Lisa."  
  
Shrugging, a genuine smile crossed Cecile's expression. "I told Matthew that I finally beat you in something: getting this job. If I'm wrong, I don't think I'd mind." She swatted his arm playfully. "I've come accustomed to losing you, I guess." Her eyes widened and her face redened. "Losing to you, that is. TO you." Dave chuckled and winked.  
  
Holding up her index finger, she trotted back into her office, returning with her and Matthew's report. Handing it to him, she answered Dave's questioning look. "I helped Matthew out with his WNYX assignment, but I think it may be more of this station's quality. Think you can give it a once-over?" Her demeanor turning serious, she looked straight into his eyes. "Just think about it, Dave. You're wanted here by so many. And I know a certain someone who wouldn't be too happy if you left."  
  
Blinking slowly, Dave extended a hand to her. Taking it, she shook it genially and leaned slightly towards him. "Oh… and I've taken the liberty of inviting that someone."  
  
Dave turned to follow her hint, his expression somber at the sight. In the foyer, with her arms crossed defiantly, was Lisa. Laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Cecile bid him farewell and exited the office, her smile broadening. She felt reconciled, and now, she could sleep easy. Her job was done.  
  
~ * ~ 


End file.
